


Bibbidi Bobbidi Asgard

by startrekkingaroundasgard



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Cinderella AU, F/M, Fluff, Injury, cinderella is a bitch, fairytale AU, revolution on asgard, secret romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-04-18 18:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 62,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14219136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startrekkingaroundasgard/pseuds/startrekkingaroundasgard
Summary: The reader is a maid working in the palace kitchens when one day she finds Loki, the youngest prince of Asgard, hiding away nearby. They strike up an unlikely friendship, full of teasing and snark but underscored by a deep understanding that neither expected.Everything runs smoothly until Odin announces a grand ball in an attempt to find wives for his sons. On what was supposed to be the greatest night of her life, the reader ends up getting herself caught up in events that will inevitably lead to disaster.While facing the troubles that come from dealing with her new mistress, Cinderella - who is far from the noble lady she claims to be - the reader has to keep her relationship with Loki hidden or risk ruin. As she slowly discovers Cinderella’s secrets and the terrible plot against Asgard’s throne, the reader must do all she can to stop the revolution before it is too late even if it costs her everything…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr - follow me @startrekkingaroundasgard

"Do you mind?“

The words startled you so much that the knife in your hand slipped, catching your little finger. You spun around ready to snap at whoever had thought it a good idea to interrupt you while you were in the zone when you came face to face with the younger prince of Asgard. He was stretched comfortably out across the window ledge as if he’d been there for a long time without you - or anyone else - noticing. 

Your mind went completely blank. What was he doing down here in the kitchens when he had the entire palace to skulk around in? The royals never came this deep into the servants levels. In fact, in all your years working in the palace, you couldn’t recall a single time any titled Asgardian had ventured this low, let alone a crowned prince. Even the guards didn’t often grace you with their presence down in the kitchens.

Realising with a start that you’d been staring with your mouth gaping, you bowed your head and asked, "Do I mind what, your highness?”

"Your incessant humming. I came down here for some peace and quiet, not to listen to you murder the songs of our fathers.“

"Perhaps if you wanted peace you should have gone to the gardens,” you grumbled, turning away from him and returning to the job at hand. You had an entire banquet’s worth of potatoes to peel and you didn’t want to face the wrath of the head chef. She was built like a bilgesnipe and had the temper of one too. Anyone stupid enough to anger her paid dearly for their mistake.

As you worked you could feel the prince’s eyes on your back and it quickly became quite annoying. Twisting on your heels, resting your back against the worktop, you pointed the small knife in his direction and parroted his early, “Do you mind?”

A smirk crossed his face, utterly mischievous, before his neutral expression returned. However, looking closely, you could still see the glint in his eyes and found yourself thanking your lucky stars that you hadn’t managed to offend the prince. “Not at all. I have quite the wonderful view from this angle.”

Narrowing your eyes, you raised your knife a little higher and quietly held his stare, hoping that your expression said everything. It was not unknown for the lords and ladies of Asgard’s court to come down to the servants quarters in search for liaisons. There were many young men and women that worked in the kitchens that had been charmed into such meetings. However, there was no way that you would allow yourself to be involved in anything so sordid.

Whilst you hardly believed those were his intentions, you wanted to make it perfectly clear where things stood between you. And judging by the slight way the prince’s lips curved at the edges, your glare had said everything you’d wanted it to and more.

You returned your attention to your work and soon got back into the rhythm of it. It wasn’t long before you started humming again, either. You were halfway through your favourite tune when the prince asked, “What’s your name?”

"Y/N, your majesty,“ you answered softly, not turning to look at him.

"You may call me Loki.”

This time you did twist to look at him, although as the light from the window framed his striking profile you almost wished you hadn’t. It would be far too easy to get lost in such beauty. Swallowing deeply to steady your voice, you bowed your head and said, “I could never, my prince. It would be a breach of etiquette. I shouldn’t even be talking to you now.”

"The last thing on my mind when I made the decision to brave the depths of the palace was protocol. If it is just you and I alone, I would prefer you called me by my name and not my title. Understand?“

You gave a brief nod, wondering what was on his mind and why he was acting so kindly towards you. After all, you were nothing but a cook and a low stationed one at that. There was no reason for him to act this way, especially if he knew relations were off the table. You soon let it go, though. You knew it was a futile exercise trying to guess Loki’s thoughts; he was well known for being difficult to read.

Loki jumped down from the window ledge with an unimaginable grace. Tucking his book under his arm, he reached out and took your hand in his before bringing it to his lips and placing a brief kiss on your knuckles. "Until next time, Y/N.”

"Goodbye, my pri… Goodbye, Loki,“ you said, correcting yourself mid sentence. To hear his name fall from your lips seemed to brighten Loki’s face tenfold but you told yourself fiercely that you must have imagined it. He was merely being kind. Acting the gentleman that he had been conditioned to be since birth.

Finally letting your hand drop from his, Loki flashed you a devilish smile before striding off through the kitchen. You watched as everyone in the kitchen fell to their knees as he passed, blindly muttering praises for their prince, and it made you wonder why you hadn’t done the same thing upon first seeing him.

Loki returned the day after, and the day after that, and every day after that in the months that followed. He rarely ever uttered a word, more than content to sit by the window in silence either reading his books or watching you and the other kitchen staff work.

"You’ve been reading that same page now for almost an hour,” you pointed out one afternoon. You’d gotten quite used to having the prince’s company and somehow, despite rarely ever actually speaking to one another, you’d formed quite a friendship. Loki always seemed to relax when he came down to the kitchens and you found his company equally calming. “What’s on your mind?”

"My father has indicated that he should like Thor and I to take wives.“

"Are you to take multiple wives or will you start with just one?”

"Don’t be facetious, Y/N,“ Loki sighed, leaning his head back against the wall.

Watching him, you realised just how much this bothered him. Loki had his fingers locked together and was constantly running his thumb over his palm - an action you’d noticed him repeat whenever he was feeling anxious. Putting down your knife, you turned fully towards him and said, "If you do not wish to marry, don’t. Surely it is that simple.”

Loki let out a harsh laugh and let his head roll to the side to face you. Those mischievous eyes of his looked so sad, so lost. “I have a duty to my kingdom. I have no choice.”

"You should always have a choice, Loki. If you marry out of duty rather than love, you will undoubtedly be miserable. No kingdom wants to see their prince suffer,“ you said, consciously trying to soften the frown on your face. "Does the king have women in mind for your marriages?”

"As of yet, he does not. However, we are to hold a ball and all in Asgard shall attend.“

"Not all,” you grumbled before you could stop yourself. Of course, only the richest and most powerful Asgardians would be invited. The grand lords and ladies that swanned around the palace looking down their noses at you, as if you were nothing more than dirt on their shoes. There would definitely be no invitation for you or the other servants. Odin would never allow his sons to interact with such unworthy company.

Loki suddenly sat up straight, clearly having noticed how your body stiffened at the thought of Odin’s anger should he ever learn that you were on a first name basis with the prince. You, a humble kitchen maid. Definitely unworthy of the company of royals. Bowing your head, you shuffled backwards until you hit your back on the hard worktop and mumbled, “I think you should leave, my prince.”

"Why?“ he asked, swinging his legs off the ledge and resting his elbows on his knees. There was a hard note in his voice but you knew it wasn’t anger. Not quite, anyway. Loki beckoned you forward and you weren’t so stupid to refuse a direct order from the prince. Taking your hands in his, Loki said, "I have opened my thoughts to you, Y/N. I would like to hope that you felt comfortable enough to do the same.”

"I do not think the king would react favourably to our… friendship,“ you said quietly.

Much to your surprise, a smile crossed Loki’s face as he let your hands drop to your side. "I am honoured to hear that you consider me to be a friend.”

"Please don’t mock me.“

"I would never dare. These past few months I have come to regard you as a friend too. There are few in the palace with whom I feel so comfortable confiding in. I care little about whatever my father may have to say about us.”

"Oh. I… Thank you, Loki,“ you breathed, shocked at the admission. Lifting your gaze, you smiled at the prince and asked, "So, when is the ball? You do know that, even as one of our beloved princes, you won’t be allowed anywhere near the kitchens beforehand. The preparation for a feast to feed half of Asgard will send this place into utter mayhem.”

"Even I am not brave enough to face the wrath of your head chef. I believe it is to be held at the month’s end.“

"Plenty of time for you to practise your dancing then,” you teased, knowing how much Loki hated to dance. For one so graceful, his utter hatred for the activity had taken you completely by surprise. “I do not envy the poor young woman tasked with teaching you.”

"Perhaps you could teach me?“ Loki asked. The words had barely left his lips before you refused so adamantly that the prince could not contain his laughter. He gently squeezed your arm, shaking his head in amusement as he moved to leave. "One day, Y/N. One day I’ll get that dance.”

"In your dreams.“

"No, Y/N. In yours.” He bowed his head by way of goodbye and you prayed that he would never know how much you longed for such an opportunity to dance with him.


	2. Chapter 2

Word of the upcoming ball spread throughout the entire kingdom like wildfire. It was all your friends in the kitchens spoke about for days. Of course, you all knew that the closest you’d get to going would be making the food that the guests got to gorge themselves on during the banquet. Sadly that knowledge did little to fill the void you all felt.

That all changed when, out of the blue, less than a week before the ball, Odin made the most extraordinary of announcements.

Squashed into the palace courtyard with practically every other servant and non-noble in the whole of Asgard, you waited with baited breath to hear what the king had to say. Everyone was nervously muttering to their neighbours, trying to guess the nature of the grand announcement.

The moment that Odin stepped out into view, holding the hand of the beautiful Frigga and followed closely by the two princes, the crowd immediately fell silent. Falling to your knees in respect for your royals, you felt your gaze wandering to where Loki stood. You couldn’t help it. Dressed in his most formal wear - all those layers of unbelievably well fitted black and green leather - he simply took your breath away. When his gaze met yours you instantly looked down, embarrassment at being caught staring so openly bubbling in your chest.

“It has come to my attention,” Odin began, his voice booming around the courtyard. “That you, my people, are disappointed in being unable to attend the coming ball. That perhaps you feel unworthy or beneath the lords and ladies of my court. This is untrue. As a gesture of my goodwill to my subjects, I have commanded extra accommodations be put into place to allow a proportion of you to attend also. There shall be a random draw tonight to determine who may join your princes in the festivities.”

A wave of hushed - but unbelievably excited - murmurs spread through the crowd as the people decided if this was real or not. Normal citizens being invited to a palace ball? Surely not! Never in the history of Asgard had such a thing happened. As strong a king as he was, Odin was rarely one to show such overwhelming concern for what the kingdom thought.

Your eyes once again drifted to Loki, who you realised had been watching no one else but you this entire time, and you suddenly understood. This had not been Odin’s idea at all. Loki must have recalled how bitter you’d been about only the gentry being invited to the ball and somehow he’d convinced his father to change that. Still maintaining eye contact with the dark haired prince, you bowed your head in thanks before allowing yourself to be carried by the dispersing crowd.

***

“Thank you,” you said, the moment that Loki joined you in the kitchen the next day. He didn’t say anything, simply took his spot by the window and let his gaze wander outside. Needing the prince to understand how grateful you were, you continued, “You don’t realise how many you made happy yesterday. The entire household hasn’t stopped talking about how generous a gesture it is. It will change the lives of many, you know. People like us don’t get chances to mix with the upper class. Not like this. Not where we’d be seen as equals.”

“People like you?” Loki’s gaze burnt into you, so intense that if you didn’t know better you’d have thought he was angry. He wasn’t angry, of that you were sure. But he was clearly upset that you saw yourself and those around you as separate from the nobles. “Your station should not define you. You are worth far more to me… Far more to Asgard than any of the lords and ladies that grace the palace halls with their presence.”

Noticing how he stumbled over his words, you gave him a soft smile and began chopping the next batch of potatoes. Feeling more free to speak your mind when you weren’t looking directly at Loki, your grip on your knife loosening slightly as settled into the rhythm of the job, you said, “I know my worth. I believe I am as deserving as the next person but that does not mean life is fair enough to give it me.”

Loki didn’t reply for a while, instead just sat reading some new book from the grand palace library - one you’d never been allowed to enter. Eventually, the prince got bored and asked, “Did you get an invitation to the ball?”

“You know the answer to that already. I assume I have you to thank for it?”

“Well, it was your idea to open the ball to all the people. It seemed only right that you were granted an invitation.”

Keeping your eyes low, you suddenly became very engrossed in peeling the potatoes. So quiet that you were surprised he even heard, you breathed, “Thank you, Loki.”

“Y/N, look at me.” Even with the relaxed friendship you had with him, Loki was still your prince and there was no way that you would refuse a direct order, especially when there were others nearby. You knew that, even though they pretended not to pay your interactions with Loki any attention, they were listening out for any morsel of gossip. “Tell me why you’ve been avoiding my gaze.”

Putting the knife down, you walked over to where he sat and stopped an appropriate distance away - as close as a servant would ever be expected to come to their royals. As you’d noted before, there were a lot of eyes turned towards you right now and the last thing you needed was for someone to berate you for breaking protocol. “I’m sorry. I gave my invitation away. I really appreciate that you made sure I got one - especially when you didn’t need to go to the trouble for me - but my sister deserved it more.”

You suddenly shivered as the air turned cold around you. Loki swung his legs around so they were dangling off the window ledge and patted the space beside him. Catching your frightened glance around the kitchen, the prince smirked and said, “Do not worry about them. What they can see is an illusion. They will see only what I want them to. You may move as you wish, although I would very much like you to join me here.”

“Need I bring my knife?” you asked, narrowing your eyes slightly at the thought that there were now no witnesses to dissuade the prince from doing whatever he wanted. You knew better of him but that niggling distrust of nobles was not easily overcome. 

Loki chuckled, shaking his head in exasperation. “You have made it perfectly clear what should happen if I overstep your boundaries, Y/N. I swear on my honour that I mean only to talk. For the sake of my hands, I shall keep them to myself.”

Taking his word to be true, you perched yourself on the window ledge by the prince’s side. As you made yourself a little more comfy, resting your back against the wall and drawing your legs underneath you, you began to understand why Loki would come and sit down here day after day. This was a surprisingly comfortable place to sit and watch the world pass.

“Y/N, are we not friends?” Loki asked, when you finally stopped wriggling about. The worried lines on his face softened when you nodded and he continued, “You must know that you have - surprisingly - become one of my most trusted confidents. And you have spoken freely to me on multiple occasions in the past. Sometimes far too freely, if truth be told. But that aside, I must know why you thought I would be angry about this.”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d be upset that I gave my invitation away after you went to all the trouble of getting the king to allow we common people into the ball and then making sure my name was on the list. I don’t know why. I’m sorry. I was being stupid. I wanted to go. Honestly, I did. I wanted to be there to help you through it all but my sister… She’s a seamstress, you see. And she’s just had another child. If she doesn’t get some new patrons soon then she won’t be able to afford to look after her family and I thought that if she went then she could impress some of the lords and ladies and…”

“Breathe,” Loki said, stopping you from rambling any further. Holding back a smile at the utter ridiculousness of your fears, the prince patted your knee and sighed, “How could I be upset with you, Y/N, when you’d do something so selfless for your family? You truly are too good a woman for this world. I will personally introduce your sister to a handful of potential patrons.”

“You really don’t need to do that!” you exclaimed. “That’s not why I told you at all! You owe me no favours, Loki. I honestly didn’t mean for you to…”

“Y/N,” he interrupted, again. “It is no hardship.”

“Thank you so much,” you said, pulling the prince into a hug. The moment you realised what you were doing, you pulled away, running a hand through your hair and apologising immediately. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

Loki responded by pulling you back into another embrace, refusing to let you go until you finally relaxed in his arms. “Stop holding back because protocol dictates you keep a distance from me. Stop apologising. It’s becoming tiring. I don’t know how else to make you understand, Y/N. You are more than just a companion with whom I pass away the hours. Our conversations are the highlight of my day. You are insightful, have a bigger heart than is good for you and - at least most of the time - display more tact than the entire council. You are my closest friend here and I will never be offended if you decide to act like it. Understand?” 

You nodded, a warmth settling in your chest. You couldn’t ignore the fears that others would seek to reprimand you for your friendship with the prince but knowing that Loki thought you so dear helped bury them deeper in your mind. “I really would liked to have gone,” you told him. “If not just to see you stepping on the feet of all the fair maidens wanting to dance.”

“Oh, of course you’re coming,” Loki said as if it were the most obvious thing in the universe. “You shall be my personal guest and stay by my side to ward away the tiresome hoards. I can think of no one better to keep me company through such a dull event.”

“You will still have to dance with most of the kingdom,” you pointed out. “I am not brave enough to step in the way of the king’s great match making plans. And you never know, you may find the one you wish to marry after all.”

“Perhaps.” The prince smiled, although you both knew it was forced, before rising to his feet to leave. “I was warned by your troll of a head cook that I am not allowed to visit tomorrow as you’ll be far too busy preparing the feast for the ball. So, I shall suppose I shall see you there. You have a gown to wear?”

You nodded. Your sister had, many years ago, made you the finest of dresses as a birthday present. Layers upon layers of blue silk, covered in the most stunning gem work so that they shone in the light like a million tiny snow crystals. It had never been worn - you’d never had reason to wear something so grand - but you knew it would be perfect for the ball.

Loki took your hand and kissed your knuckles, as he did after every visit. “Until then, my lady.”

“My prince,” you said with a curtsy. As he went to leave, you caught his hand, barely brushing your fingers past his, and whispered, “Thank you, Loki. For everything.”

“Anything for you, Y/N.”


	3. Chapter 3

Today was supposed to have been a good day. A great day, even. You were supposed to finish your shift in the kitchens, join the other girls to get ready and then join the Asgardian elite for the best night of your life. Gorgeous outfits. Food to die for (you should know, considering you’d all helped to make it). The chance to enjoy Loki’s company somewhere other than in the depths of the palace, for once. It should have been perfect.

But instead, you felt like you’d fallen into Hel itself.

Despite having worked practically nonstop for the last 12 hours, your demon of a head chef had chosen you as one of the “lucky ones” that got to stay on for a longer shift to cover for everyone that was off preparing for the ball.

"But I’ve got an invitation! I need time to get ready too,“ you tried to tell her, somehow managing not to quake in fear under that steely glare of hers. Your courage did nothing to persuade her though and you were soon shooed back to your station at the far end of the kitchen, left to finish all the tasks no one else wanted to do.

When you finally managed to convince her to let you leave the kitchen - less than half an hour before the ball began - you practically ran to the servants quarters. You could feel the excitement of the entire kingdom already; it was like it had been caught on the wind and was blowing directly at you. It would be a lie to say that you weren’t completely buzzing with anticipation too.

However, that excitement quickly faded away to horror when you saw someone had stolen your bag. Normally you would have been angry, maybe even a little disappointed, but that would be it. After all, there was very little you owned that was actually worth taking. But today… Today, your bag had held your dress. The most beautiful dress that you’d ever seen, made by your sister no less. And now it was gone.

Gathering what little strength you had left, you made your way out the back of the palace and blindly let your feet guide you wherever they wanted to go. You didn’t care where you ended up. You just had to get away from the cheer and festivities. As always, your feet took you exactly where you wanted to go and moments later you were doubled over, weeping silently to yourself on a disused staircase into the gardens.

"Excuse me?” The gentle voice pulled you from your sorrows as an beautiful woman asked, “Do you know how to get back to the main hall? I seem to have gotten a little lost.”

Despite all your sorrows, you couldn’t help but smile. She certainly wasn’t wrong; she was about as far from the centre of the palace as you could possibly get. That was, after all, why you’d subconsciously chosen this specific spot to come and cry. Wiping your eyes, you said, “I can take you back there, my lady.”

"Thank you, I am always getting lost. There was one time I… Are you alright, dear?“ You nodded, not wanting to burden her, but she was quite insistent. Sitting down beside you without a care as to how it would ruin her stunning dress, she said, "You don’t look like someone about to have the best night of their life.”

You wiped the tears from your eyes, knowing it did little use to improve your appearance - sweaty and covered in grime from working in the kitchen, red puffy eyes and your hair practically beyond saving. After explaining the sad series of events that had led to you crying in the gardens, you sighed, “There’s no hope.”

"Oh, there’s always hope, dear.“

"Understand if I find that hard to believe, my lady.”

"Sweet child, have a little faith. Come with me. I shall get you to the ball if it’s the last thing I do.“

Not giving you the opportunity to protest, she grabbed you by the hand and pulled you into the palace. Somehow having found a sense of direction in the ten minutes spent sitting outside with you, the woman guided you through the grand hallways towards her enormous guest suite.

Before you’d had the time to take in the grandeur of the room, she was already shepherding you into the biggest wardrobe you’d ever seen. There had to be almost a hundred dresses in every cut and colour you could possibly imagine. You wanted to run your hands over the fabrics, to feel their soft touch against your rough and calloused hands, but were too scared you’d ruin them.

Noticing your almost fearful expression, the woman shook her head and practically shoved you into the bathroom. "Use whichever soaps take your fancy,” she said, already untying the back of your dress. You jumped backwards, holding your hands out to keep a large distance between you but it only seemed to make her laugh. “Have a little faith, dear. I hold no interest in such sordid things. Think of me as your fairy god mother. My only aim is to get you to the ball!”

She wore the kindest of smiles, so genuine that it lit up her entire face. Thanking her for her generosity, you took your time in the bathroom, allowing yourself to indulge in the luxuries you knew you’d never likely see again. You knew that even just one of these impressive soaps cost more than a month’s food for your entire family.

When you finally stepped out into the main part of her room, you were greeted by a selection of gorgeous dresses laid neatly across the enormous bed. Now confident that you would leave greasy handprints over the delicate fabrics, you ran over and stroked each of the skirts in turn. “These are beautiful,” you said, unable to tear your eyes away from their beauty.

"I think the green would suit you best,“ your fairy god mother said, possibly to herself, possibly to you. You weren’t entirely sure. It didn’t matter, though, since it was the one you’d wanted to try on the most anyway. It was simple and elegant but looked more as if it could belong to a princess of old.

A few minutes later, you were spinning around the room and giggling like a child on their birthday. The incredible emerald fabric circled out as you twirled, falling down in a waterfall of silk layers when you finally stood still long enough for it to settle. The bodice was tight, pulled in enough to keep you from slouching but not quite squeezing tight enough that you couldn’t breathe. A thin golden band around your waist was the only other colour on the dress and you couldn’t stop yourself from running your fingers over the delicate embroidery that covered it.

Turning to the other woman, you took her hands in yours and said, "I can’t thank you enough for this. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you for your kindness.”

"Enjoy the ball, of course!“ She brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear and smiled. With a cheeky wink, she said, "Go find yourself a handsome prince. Perhaps you could escort me to the hall on your way? I would absolutely hate to end up lost again.”

You walked arm in arm down to the great hall, stopping in the main doors to take in the incredible sight. It was almost overwhelming. There were so many people dressed in the finest fabrics, eating the best food that the kingdom had to offer. It was all you’d been imagining and more.

Sliding her arm from yours, your fairy god mother kissed your cheek and said, “Now make sure you leave by midnight, dear.” You shot her a confused look which she returned with a knowing, almost sad smile. “Trust me. By that point in the evening, the lords and ladies of the court will have had far too much to drink. The less reputable have been known to take liberties when in such moods.”

Understanding crossing your features, she squeezed your hands and practically pushed you in the direction of a certain dark haired prince. Catching yourself before you fell flat on your face, you weaved through the crowd until you were close enough to properly see Loki.

As you’d expected, he was standing against the edge of the room, watching the festivities with something akin to disdain. However, the moment he saw you making your way through the crowd, his entire demeanour changed. “I was beginning to think that you weren’t going to come.”

"There was a little problem with my dress,“ you said vaguely, curtsying before joining him against the wall. Nudging him with your elbow you added, "I promised I’d come, didn’t I? I’d never leave you to face this alone. It’s madness.”

"Indeed. I’ve never enjoyed this sort of thing. It is more Thor’s idea of fun.“

"You mean you don’t enjoy the fact that all the beautiful and eligible young women of the kingdom want to throw themselves at you?”

Loki didn’t grace that with an answer. Instead, he cocked his head to examine your dress. You shifted awkwardly as his gaze followed the exquisite lines of your body, lingering in certain areas for far longer than should have been acceptable in public. Finally lifting his eyes to yours, an almost invisible smirk on his lips, the prince said, “You look incredible, Y/N.”

"You look good too,“ you breathed, not quite sure how else to respond. Loki raised his eyebrow so you amended your statement. "Better than good. Great. But of course you knew that already.”

The smirk on his face now completely visible, lighting up his features even though you were both still hidden in the shadows, Loki offered you his hand and asked cordially, “May I have this dance, my lady?”

"So long as you promise not to step on my feet,“ you said, slowly reaching out to accept his invitation. Noticing Loki tense ever so slightly, you gave him a smile and gently squeezed his hand as you walked over to the centre of the ballroom. As he took hold and rested a hand on your waist, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room on your back, you breathed, "I fear I may have forgotten how to dance all together.”

"Trust me. Follow my lead and you’ll be fine.“

"Everyone’s staring,” you whispered.

"That’s because you’re the first person I’m dancing with. They’re wondering why I chose you.“ Not allowing you any further chance to argue, Loki began to sweep you around the floor. It was funny really; you’d expected him to be bad at dancing. After all, he’d spent the past month complaining about how much he hated it. But, like always, the prince moved with a graceful confidence that you knew you could never match, holding you close to his chest as you twirled round to the beautiful music.

When the piece finally came to an end you met Loki’s gaze and, for the briefest moment, it was just the two of you in the grand hall. The boisterous noise from the other guests died away and a warm silence stretched between you. Turning your face from him ever so slightly, not even realising that you were shying away from the prince, you asked, "Why?”

Loki frowned almost imperceptibly and if you hadn’t have gotten to know his so well over the past months you would never have noticed the faint crinkles around his eyes. His hold on your waist tightening ever so slightly, he asked, “Why what?”

"Why did you choose me? You had no reason to abstain from dancing until I arrived. You should have been mingling with your guests, not hiding in the corner for a servant.“

"Y/N, I…”

"May I cut in?“ the high pitched voice interrupted Loki before he could answer. Feeling the not so gentle tap on your shoulder, you stepped aside and turned to see the most incredible woman you’d ever laid eyes on. Judging by the way that Loki’s jaw seemed to touch the floor, you wagered that she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen too.

Her blonde hair was perfectly curled and pinned into place, cascading down her back like a waterfall. There was a glint in her eyes like she’d somehow managed to captured the wonder of the stars in them and she wore a smile that would tempt the most faithful of men.

Something about her didn’t seem right, though. She was too perfect. Projected too strong an air of superiority as if she were over compensating for a low station. There was no way she was noble born. You’d met enough people in your time at the palace to know the difference between those who had power and those that only boasted it. All these things pointed to her being far from the royal she was pretending to be.

But, perhaps the most convincing piece of evidence was the fact that she was wearing your dress.

Loki turned to you, almost asking permission to dance with the other woman. You nodded, hardly in a position to protest. After all, he was a prince and the very reason for Odin holding the ball was to try and find his sons a match in matrimony.

Stepping away from the crowds in the centre of the room, you searched the room for the single person that you needed to see more than any other; your older sister, Inga. Thanking your lucky stars - they certainly seemed to be looking down on you tonight - you found her almost immediately.

You threw your arms around her, holding her tightly. When she finally managed to wriggle out of your embrace, your sister took one look at your face and asked, "Y/N? What happened?”

"The woman dancing with Loki… Inga, someone stole my bag earlier and it had that dress, my dress, the one you made me, in it. And now she’s there, in my dress, dancing with my… dancing with him and she’s a thief and…“

"Y/N,” she said, her gentle but firm tone cutting off your mumblings immediately. “Take a deep breath. Before we do anything rash, are you sure that it’s your dress? There are hundreds of beautiful gowns here. A lot of them look very similar.”

You nodded, completely sure of what you’d seen, and Inga’s features hardened. Just like always, she’d accepted your word without hesitation and like a switch had been flicked in her brain she was no longer a peaceful seamstress; she was an avenging warrior, like the Valkyries of old, ready to take on anyone that hurt her family.

Turning to face you, determination flaming in her eyes, she asked, “I think it’s about time we went to speak to the prince, don’t you?”


	4. Chapter 4

“Inga, get back here right now!” you hissed, following your sister as she pushed her way through the crowds to get to Loki. Apologising to everyone that she shoved out of her path - literally every person that she passed - you grabbed her hand to stop her going any further. “Inga, you can’t just interrupt a dance with the prince!”

“Oh, we’re back to prince now are we? When did he stop being Loki?” Her voice was quiet enough for no one else to hear, knowing how much trouble you could get into for breaking protocol like that, but the sisterly snark came through loud and clear. The way her face softened as she diverted you both to the edge of the room had you practically spluttering with embarrassment. “This is about more than just the dress, isn’t it?”

She pulled you into a corner of the ballroom covered by shadows and, even though you were well removed from the rest of the party, Inga still checked that no one was near enough to over hear you. Jutting out a hip, she raised her eyebrow the way she did when her own children were being naughty and said, “Tell me everything.”

That was exactly what you did. Feeling simultaneously better and worse for putting all your feelings into words, you sighed, “I don’t know what to do. How could I have let this happen?”

“How did you let yourself fall in love with a handsome and witty prince that listens to and respects your every word? You’re right; he’s terrible and doesn’t deserve a single drop of your affection.”

“I hate you.”

“I’m your sister; if you don’t hate me then I’m doing something very wrong.” Inga pulled you into an embrace, the simple action enough to quell your anger enough that you no longer felt like punching every blonde haired woman you saw. Smoothing your hair down in the way that only older sisters are allowed to do, she asked, “So, what are we going to do now? Are you going to tell him?”

“I can’t do that!” A few of the nearby nobles glanced in your direction following your sharp outburst so you lowered your voice to continue, “Inga, if I tell him the truth then I will ruin our friendship. I value his company too much to let it go.”

Inga frowned, tapping her fingers on her jutted out hip as she tried to think of a solution. She had always been this way; she’d approach every problem from a logical point of view, even matters of the heart, and try to reason out the best path. “Well, if you’re going to give up on your dreams of romance just because a thief got in the way then we must simply eliminate her.”

You burst out laughing, hiding your head in your hands as you fought to maintain some semblance of dignity in the company of the lords and ladies of Asgard. “We are not stooping so low as to murder her, Inga!”

“Why not?” she whined, pulling a small dagger from somewhere in the many layers of her beautiful red skirt. You widened your eyes at the sight, wondering a) where your sister had gotten such a stunning blade and b) why on Asgard she had it with her tonight. “Do not look so surprised, Y/N! I am the mother of three beautiful children. I would not risk being caught out alone with no way to defend myself.”

You felt your gaze soften at your sister’s words, understanding her fears completely. She would never risk the long journey from her village to the palace alone without some way to protect herself - especially with the path well known to home many dangerous beasts. Touching her arm gently, you smiled, “You are a wonderful mother to them, Inga.”

“Of course I am,” she said, almost offended that you could believe anything else. “Anyway, I could never let them grow up with you as their only female role model.”

“I hope you’re nicer to your children than you are to me,” you bit back, although completely without malice.

Inga pulled you into a hug and squeezed you so tightly that you could barely breathe. “Love you really,” she said with a grin. Her face suddenly become fierce once again, she asked, “Now, what are we going to do about the dress thief and the prince?”

You opened your mouth to speak but the words fell dry on your lips as you noticed Loki striding in your direction. Inga curtseyed immediately, not so subtly whacking your hip to remind you to do the same. “Your highness,” you breathed, barely meeting his eyes. “This is my sister, Inga.”

“My prince, it is such an honour to meet you,” Inga said, the welcoming smile on her face not quite reaching her eyes. Whilst the majority of her anger was directed towards the woman that stole your dress, she still watched Loki with reservation. If he broke your heart, you were in no doubt that she would hunt him down and make him suffer.

“Likewise.” Loki looked over Inga’s shoulder towards you, his uncertainty palpable. He might not have understood why, but the prince was intelligent and observant enough to work out that your sister was out for someone’s - most probably including his - blood. Still, and perhaps even because of it, he dialled his charm up to eleven and flashed her the most charming of smiles. “Y/N tells me that you’re a seamstress of quite remarkable skill. I must say that I agree with her. Your gown is exquisite. It rivals those designed by the palace’s tailors.”

No matter how much Inga wanted to keep a cold affront towards the prince, to act like the protective big sister she was, she practically melted from the compliment. Stumbling over her words, she finally managed to collect her wits enough to say, “Thank you, my prince. If only my patrons thought so too; I would be able to charge far more for my services.”

“If I could tear you away from your sister for a few moments, I would be delighted to introduce to a few nobles with more riches than sense.” Not giving her the opportunity to argue, Loki held out his arm for Inga to take and led her towards a nearby group of gossiping nobles.

Looking over his shoulder, expecting you to be smiling at him, Loki frowned when you turned away from his gaze. Noticing you shuffling away into the crowd, Loki sent you a pleading glance, wordlessly asking you wait for his return. As much as you wanted to leave, you nodded and stayed put.

A few minutes later, having left your sister with the kindest noblewomen of the court, Loki returned and immediately asked, “Y/N, why are you upset?”

You shook your head, deciding now wasn’t the right time to explain. Giving him a gentle smile, you said, “I’m fine, Loki. It’s just been a long day. Tell me, how was your dance with…”

You left the question hanging, knowing that you could hardly call the woman “the bitch that stole from me”, but he seemed to understand perfectly. He frowned and for a moment you thought that he would just brush away the encounter as nothing more than an irritating distraction. In fact, much to your astonishment, Loki’s face then lit up and he began to gush about how beautiful a lady Cinderella was.

“Loki,” you said, stopping him from singing any more of Cinderella’s praises by gently touching his arm. As happy as he seemed to be, you didn’t want to hear another word about Cinderella’s beautiful hair, eyes or lips. Especially not her lips. “I’m glad that you enjoyed dancing with her but…”

“She is a wonderful dancer,” Loki repeated, resting his hand over yours. He seemed completely entranced and it made you feel more than a little sick.

“I’m sure she was, Loki, but I…” When the prince still didn’t stop talking about her, you tightened your grip on his arm and pleaded for him to listen to you. “Loki, I’m really very tired. I’m glad that this hasn’t been a wasted evening for you but I just want to go home. Is that okay?”

Frowning, Loki rested his hand on your cheek, gentle but firm to stop you from turning away from his gaze. “Y/N,” he whispered, your name barely audible over the loud bustle of the ball. “Tell me what’s wrong. If someone has upset you…”

“I don’t know what to say, Loki. It’s alright. I’m alright. Thank you for dancing with me. I’ll see you later.”

“Y/N…”

“There you are, brother!” Thor exclaimed, throwing his arm around Loki’s shoulders. The younger prince tried to shrug his brother’s arm away but couldn’t quite manage it without full on shoving Thor away. His voice far too loud for the quiet corner of the ballroom, Thor said, “Father was beginning to wonder where you have been. You have wasted far too much of the evening standing around and now is the time to socialise with some of the guests.”

“I’m in the middle of a conversation, Thor,” Loki said.

Looking away from the bickering brothers for a moment, you noticed Odin watching you intently. He wasn’t scowling as such but it was clear that he thought you a distraction to both of the princes. The last thing you wanted was for him to have you reprimanded so you blurted out, “Loki, it’s fine. We can talk another time. Go and entertain your guests.”

You didn’t miss the way Thor looked between you and his brother, raising an eyebrow at informal way you spoke to Loki. You’d realised far too late that you hadn’t used Loki’s title and Odin was still watching you from the other side of the grand hall, however you relaxed at the sight of Thor’s easy smile. Something about him made you feel less tense.

He patted Loki heartily on the back and said, “Worry not, brother. I shall keep… Oh, do forgive me. What is your name, my lady? You’re Y/N? Wonderful. I shall keep Y/N company while you take your turn on the dance floor. Off you go, brother.”

Turning your head to hide your laughter at the way Thor practically shoved Loki towards the nearest woman, you bowed your head to the older prince and tried to excuse yourself. “As much as I appreciate the offer, my prince, I was just about to leave anyway. You needn’t waste your time with me. As you told Prince Loki, there are plenty of beautiful women waiting for a dance.”

“I have heard much about you, Y/N,” Thor said, stopping you in your tracks. As you slowly turned back to face him, you once again found the tension leaving your body at the sight of his ridiculous grin. “Nothing bad, I assure you. Loki is remarkably fond of you.”

“I… I am quite fond of him too.”

Thor’s grin seemed to grow even wider and before you could stop him, the prince wrapped you in his arms and spun you around. Laughing until you had tears in your eyes, Thor finally put you down and said, “You are incredibly good for my brother, Y/N. It is rare to see him as content as when he has been to see you. I am sure that you and he will be incredibly happy together.”

Your smile faded and the tears in your eyes were no longer from laughing. “I am… I don’t suppose that Loki told you but I work in the kitchens, sire. Even if I wanted to, uh, further my relationship with your brother, I very much doubt that the king would approve.”

“Loki did tell me that you were a cook. He said no one peeled vegetables as well as you. Rest assured, though, if my father learnt of your affection for one another, I am certain he would give you his blessings,” Thor said, completely oblivious to the way that the king was continuing to stare you down from across the room. Not content with distracting one of his sons, there you were keeping the other from the grandeur of the ball as well.

You could understand how that must look to him; even in your beautiful gown, you were still nothing more than a servant. A servant seemingly intent on stealing not one but both princes for her own gain. Whilst of course those weren’t your intentions, Odin’s scowl - for that was what it had now become - was enough to make you want to back away immediately.

Shrinking into the shadows, you gave Thor a friendly smile and said, “It hardly matters anyway, my prince. Loki’s affections for me a purely platonic, I am sure. I value our friendship and would have it no other way. He also seems incredibly taken by Cinderella and I’d do nothing to get in the way of his happiness.”

Thor’s expression dimmed, an almost imperceptible change but one you noticed nonetheless. Sighing yourself, feeling as if the full weight of the world was pressed against your chest, the blonde prince threw an arm around your waist and pulled you into a hug. You were far too shocked by the break in protocol to refuse and instead simply allowed his enormous frame to envelop you and your sadness.

When he finally pulled away, taking some of your dark thoughts away with him, Thor noticed you awkwardly avoiding his gaze and laughed, “I apologise for embarrassing you, my fair lady. Any friend of my brother’s, as few and far between as they may be, is a friend of mine and I shall treat them as such. Come. Dance with me and then I shall finally leave you with your thoughts.”

“I really don’t dance,” you mumbled, barely bothering to try and pull your hand free. For one, it would be incredibly rude to refuse the prince’s request, especially in the presence of so many people. For another, you suspected that Thor would just follow you around all evening until you finally relented.

Allowing him to take you into hold, you let him lead you purposefully around the dance floor in a perfectly decent waltz. Being in Thor’s strong arms made you feel calmer and your worries seemed less important than before. You were just two people comfortable to be near one another. It was nice.

As nice as it was, though, it was nothing like dancing with Loki. With him you’d felt like you were floating among the clouds, almost overwhelmed by being held so close, feeling like you meant something more than just a friend. There had been a power as you’d moved, sweeping you across the floor and leaving you hoping that it never ended.

But, of course, everything had to end eventually.

The piece drew to a close and Thor stepped away graciously to bow. He brought your hand to his lips and brushed his lips against yours before standing upright with a genuine smile on his face. “You sell yourself short, Y/N. You are a wonderful dancer.”

“Thank you, my prince.”

“Thor,” he corrected you, leading you off the dance floor. “If you are to call my brother by his name, then I shall extend you the same courtesy.”

“Thank you, Thor,” you said, shaking your head at how ridiculous it felt. Odin really would have your head if he ever heard that you were on first name terms with both of his sons. Glancing around the ballroom, seeing no sigh of the dark haired prince that you were definitely not searching for, you asked, “What time is it?”

“Almost midnight, I do believe. Any reason why?”

A smile graced the edge of your lips as you explained, “I was given some wonderful advice earlier. I was told to leave by midnight or risk facing the unwelcome propositions of drunkards.”

“Wise advice indeed,” Thor nodded, although his small frown told you that he wasn’t impressed by the fact that members of the household - of his household - lived in constant fear that they may face such propositions from the upper classes. “Would you like me to call a member of the guard to escort you home?”

“You really needn’t do that for me,” you protested, hearing a distant clock begin to chime as it signalled in the new hour. “I have walked back to my home alone in the dead of the night more times than I care to remember.”

Thor went to argue but stopped mid sentence as something caught his attention. Mere seconds later, there was an almighty crash from outside and the echoes of nearby screams filled the air. A handful of palace guards burst into the ballroom and began shouting for the guests to make their way to the nearest secure locations.

“What’s happening?” you yelled to Thor, pressing your back against the nearest wall and making yourself as small as possible. It seemed a far better option than getting crushed to death in the crowd that was now pushing and shoving its way through the previously hidden servant’s doors. You knew first hand that those corridors were tight even for just two people; managing to get an entire room’s full of people down into the tunnels would not be an easy feat. 

Stretching out his arm, Mjolnir was suddenly in the prince’s grasp and his whole demeanour changed. Where before he had been carefree and jolly, enjoying the ball in its entirety, Thor now looked fierce and ready for anything. Turning to you with a grin on his face, clearly energised and almost excited for the coming fight, he began pushing his way through the crowd towards the main gate, following the guards on their way to battle. Briefly looking over his shoulder, he yelled, “Get yourself to safety, Y/N! The palace is under attack!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little bit of injury in this, mentions of blood but nothing too bad, I don't think. Please don't read if you think it'll make you uncomfortable though.

It took a few seconds for your brain to restart amid the earth shatteringly loud screams that filled the great palace hall but when it finally clicked over you knew exactly what to do. Pushing yourself through the crowd, which was full of people with absolutely no idea where they were going or what to do - honestly, nobles were beyond useless in times of crisis - you squished through the bodies until you reached the next nearest servants’ door.

Clicking the panel open with ease, you began shepherding people through the door and down into the secondary tunnels. Once people started funnelling their way down, you shoved your way over to the final door and opened that one up too. With all three servants’ doors open, the crowd began to disperse a lot faster and the overwhelming feeling of panic within the guests subsided a little.

As the sounds of battle grew closer, you told the nobles in the tunnel to follow the path down to the safe rooms and wait there until someone came to find them. Thankfully they didn’t make you tell them twice, shuffling through the dark underbelly of the palace without questioning your authority once.

Closing the nearest floor behind the final guests, you went to cross the room and hide the entrances to the other passageways when a battalion of soldiers backed their way into the great hall, weapons clearly in defensive. Whoever had attacked the palace had the best warriors on Asgard practically running away with their tails between their legs. The sensible part of your brain told you to get the hell out of there but for some stupid reason you stayed put.

From where you were hiding behind the throne - Odin’s throne… Oh, how he would kill you if he found out you had gone anywhere near it - you couldn’t see much but the second you laid eyes on the armoured warriors charging their way into the great hall you knew who they were. Dissidents from the outlying villages who weren’t happy with the way Asgard was being run. Unfortunately, they were some of the best metal workers in the entire kingdom and had obviously been training hard too.

It soon became clear that the dissidents weren’t just here to ruin the ball, though. They were looking for something. Or someone. Almost certainly Odin, you reasoned. It wouldn’t be the first time that a group of people had invaded the palace to try and kill him. It certainly wouldn’t be the last, either.

Looking around the hall for a way out, grateful that someone had had the sense to close the servants’ doors from inside the tunnels, you found yourself trapped. Hiding in the shadows wouldn’t work for long, you feared; a worry that was quickly realised when a nearby attacker laid eyes on you.

He struck down the palace guard that tried to jump in his way with ease and strode towards you, a dark focus in his eyes. Holding his sword out so the tip touched your chest, he grinned as your breathing became uneven and your entire body began to shake. “You would make a wonderful trophy, my lady.”

"I’m only a servant, sir,“ you breathed, trying and failing to keep your wits about you.

"That’s even better. No one to miss you.” He leant closer, backing you even further against the wall. You had nowhere to go, no space to try and fight back - not that you would, for doing so would definitely get you killed. You felt the sharp tip of his blade pressing against your chest as he said, “You must know where the royal safe rooms are.”

You merely nodded, not trusting yourself to speak now that the blade was getting ever closer to piercing your skin.

"Odin and the princes will be there?“ You nodded again, your earlier suspicions of their motive for being here confirmed. "Take me, then.”

He grabbed you by the arm and spun you against his chest, his blade against your neck as he held you from behind. He called over two of his friends and the four of you slipped away from the battle unnoticed by the palace guards - who were far too caught up in the fighting to notice you leave the hall.

The soldier breathed heavily on your neck, making you desperately want to cringe away. However, at the small movement, he gripped you tighter and hissed in your ear, “If you try anything, we will kill you where you stand.”

As you led them through the maze of corridors in the palace, praying that they wouldn’t realise this was the third time you’d walked past the kitchen now, you found yourself wishing that you hadn’t been so selfless. If you hadn’t tried to save everyone, save the nobles that never spared you even basic courtesy, then you may well have been down in the safe rooms with everyone else.

But if you had run and they’d found Loki… You could never have lived with yourself.

"How much further?“ the man holding the sword to your neck asked. You realised in terror that your feet had led you back to the grand hall and in the moment you knew that they really would kill you for wasting their time. For some reason, rather than terrified, you felt strangely liberated.

Stopping so suddenly that he ran straight into your back, you said defiantly, "I will never betray my kingdom.”

"Sentiment,“ the soldier scoffed, increasing the pressure of his blade on your neck. You could feel the cool metal drawing blood, sharp stinging pains screaming for your body to move but you knew that shifting even an inch would be your death.

He shoved you at one of the other soldiers who without hesitation drove his blade through your side. You fell to your knees, overcome by a sudden dizziness as you pressed your hands over the bleeding wound in your side.

Feeling the tip of the blade over your heart, you closed your eyes and waited for the inevitable.

It never came.

There was a deafening crash as Mjolnir sent the soldiers flying against the nearest wall. You felt a thick pair of arms lift you up and the palace seemed to whiz by around you as he hastily carried you to the healers. As you began to drift off, you suddenly heard Thor ask how you were feeling.

Considering your current state, you were more amazed than anything that you managed to collect your thoughts enough to form an almost coherent sentence. "I ruined the dress.”

"Worry not, Y/N. The royal cleaners have found the most effective ways of removing blood stains,“ Thor said reassuringly, entirely amused that you were more worried about your dress than actually having been stabbed.

"It’s not even mine, though,” you groaned, trying to move to make yourself more comfortable in Thor’s arms. Your side felt warm and tight and you wanted to stretch it out, to make that horrid feeling vanish.

The prince gently tightened his grip on you to stop you from moving, knowing that if you weren’t careful that you could tear the skin around wound and do considerably more damage to yourself. “Try not to move, Y/N. We are almost at the healers. If it isn’t your dress, then to whom does it belong?”

"My fairy god mother,“ you said a little distantly, lolling your head to the side. The palace hallways certainly did look strange from this angle. It didn’t help that your dizziness was getting worse. "She gave it to me. After Cinderella stole my dress.”

"The woman you spoke of before?“ Thor asked as you entered the healing wing. Pushing the question from his mind, the prince handed you to the most skilled of the healers and promised to return later once he was sure the palace was secured.

True to his word, a few hours later, Thor did return - carrying a large golden plate of fresh fruit. Offering it you with a smile, not at all offended when you turned the gift down, he took a seat beside you and asked, "How do you feel, my friend?”

"The healers said I was lucky. If you hadn’t brought me straight here, I would have lost too much blood and I’d have gone into shock. I am in your debt, my pri… Thank you, Thor,“ you corrected yourself after a brief pause. It felt strange to call the older prince of Asgard by his given name, especially as you’d only officially been introduced that evening, but at the same time it felt natural.

"You owe me no such debt. It is you that Asgard should be thanking for putting the lives of hundreds of citizens above your own. You acted with great bravery.”

"Not as bravely as the guards,“ you said, looking around at the many injured soldiers around you. It was a relief to see that none of them had been so badly hurt that the healers couldn’t save them. In fact, most of them were already up on their feet, joking around and slapping each other on the back for a battle well fought.

Apparently, after you’d left the grand hall they’d managed to turn the tables and defeat the entire attacking force. You imagined that the prisons were currently overflowing but had absolutely no intention of going down to find out.

"Nonsense!” Thor exclaimed, heartily patting you on the shoulder. Gesturing around the room, he said proudly, “The warriors performed their duty most bravely but you risked your life to save others because you felt it to be right. You truly are a remarkable woman.”

You couldn’t help but smile and graciously accepted his compliments and unreserved enthusiasm. The pair of you sat chatting for a while, joined occasionally by other guardsmen who had somehow heard about the servant that fearlessly directed hundreds of people to safety and managed to distract three enemy soldiers by leading them on a wild goose chase around the palace.

The palace guards thumped you on the back the same way Thor had done, unabashedly expressing their admiration for your “heroic” behaviour. You were soon grateful for the anaesthetic that the healers had given you for without it you would definitely be feeling the bruise that was forming on your shoulder from all their attention.

"I really didn’t have much of a choice,“ you tried to explain to one guard, a younger man that seemed enthralled by the tale of your actions. The last thing you wanted was to become some sort of myth among the household. "Anyone else would have done the same as me.”

"You sell yourself short, Y/N,“ Thor said, wrapping his arm around you and squeezing you tightly. You had never met someone as tactile as him, so open with his affections - especially for a noble - but did find it surprisingly comforting. If you hadn’t known otherwise, you would have thought you’d been friends for years.

Leaning against his side, you closed your eyes and thanked him when sent the growing crowd of interested guards away. "Too much?” he asked, smoothing down your wild hair like your sister used to do when you were younger. “You have the look in your eye that my brother used to wear when he was overwhelmed by attention.”

"It definitely isn’t what I’m used to.“

"If I may, Y/N, I have a question for you,” Thor said, suddenly sounding somewhat unsure of himself. It was completely at odds with what you knew of him and it filled you with a deep sense of dread. When you nodded, he asked, “You mentioned earlier that this was not your dress…”

"Y/N!“ Loki exclaimed as he burst into the healing room, cutting Thor off mid question. He slipped pass the busy healers and apologised to them all as he wove his way over to where you were sat. For the briefest moment, the prince stared at you and his brother, clearly wondering when you’d gotten so close, before pushing the traitorous thought aside.

Thor immediately jumped to his feet - understanding that you two needed to be alone - and squeezed your arm comfortingly before wandering over to the nearest group of soldiers. After only a few seconds the group of men were laughing hysterically, so loud that it made your head hurt.

"Do you feel well enough to walk?” Loki asked, offering his arm for you to hold on to. “We can find somewhere a little more… peaceful.”

"That would be nice,“ you said, taking his arm and letting him lead you from the healing room. Just as you rounded the corner to leave, you caught Thor grinning at you and his brother, sending a knowing wink your direction. You simply rolled your eyes, knowing that any other gesture you may or may not have been considering could probably be classed as treason.

You walked slowly through the halls of the palace, content to silently just be with Loki. His mere presence made you feel calm, a trait the princely brothers seemed to share. Of course, with Thor it felt like being in the company of an old friend. Someone that knew your thoughts and understood your feelings and would always be there to help.

But with Loki… With Loki, it was like coming home after being away for months. It was comfort and safety and the knowledge that he would lay down his life for you. You didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than you were and you knew he returned the favour. There were no charades, no falsities. You just were. In your entire life you’d never experienced safety like that before.

"The entire palace is talking about your bravery. The stories circulating are almost beyond belief.” Loki’s voice was soft as he stroked the back of your hand with his thumb. It was such a gentle motion, almost certainly subconscious on the prince’s part and that made your heart swell. “I came as soon as I heard.”

You couldn’t help but frown a little at that. You’d spent all night with the healers and in that time had been visited almost a hundred guards, servants and grateful nobles. People of every class and station had heard about your actions and tried to see you. Even Inga, who had been trapped down in the safe rooms for many hours, had managed - after fighting of a hoard of soldiers at the door - to make her way to you before Loki.

All that doubt swirling around your head, you found yourself asking, “Where were you during the attack, Loki? Did you get hurt?”

"Why? Were you worried about me?“

"I was a little preoccupied being stabbed to be concerned about your whereabouts,” you hissed, unexpectedly annoyed by his teasing. Even so, the words came out harsher than you’d been intending and apologised immediately. Coming to a halt and taking his hands in yours, you looked up into his eyes and asked, “May I be honest with you, Loki?”

Loki nodded, pulling you ever so slightly closer. He didn’t seem to notice the difference but you could. Taking a moment to work out how best to phrase yourself, you came to the conclusion that there was going to be no best way. “It hurt that you didn’t come and see me earlier. I have spent the entire evening surrounded by people desperate to hear about my heroics - which literally entailed nothing more than me walking around in circles with a knife to my throat and then getting stabbed for my troubles. For all that time, I couldn’t help but wonder why you hadn’t yet visited.”

"Y/N…“ Loki rested his hands on your hips, this time consciously closing the gap between you. He was careful not to put pressure on the healing wound in your side, his fingers so light against your body that you wondered if you were imagining it.

Dropping your gaze to the ground, too scared to see his reaction to your words, you whispered, "I just thought that you cared about me more than to wait eight hours to check that I was okay.”

"I do care about you, Y/N. Tremendously so. I sincerely regretting not seeking you out beforehand and I cannot apologise enough for making it seem that I’d forgotten about you. That could and would never happen.“ Loki lifted one hand to cup your face, barely touching your skin as he lifted your gaze. You could still feel the echo of his fingers when he let his hand drop.

Emboldened by his delicate brushes, you bit down on your bottom lip before asking, "Loki, why did you wait to dance with me? I need to know. If it was simply for fear of engaging with the other guests or the relief of a familiar face or maybe even just as a show of some kind then that’s fine but if it was for some other reason… If you actually wanted to dance with me like I wanted to dance with you…”

Your words faded away as you realised just how close you and the prince had gotten. Somehow you’d ended up chest to chest, his hand resting barely on the small of your back stopping you from pulling away - not that you would. With his other hand Loki tilted your chin upwards, his movements so soft that you had every chance to stop him and step back if you wanted.

You didn’t.

Loki brushed his lips hesitantly against yours, still giving you every opportunity to end this before it went too far. When you instead deepened the kiss, wrapping your hand around his neck and pulling him closer, you could feel the prince smiling against your mouth.

As you finally broke the kiss, Loki held you tightly, not wanting to let you go. Brushing the stray pieces of hair from your face, he asked, “Does that answer your question?”

"It wouldn’t hurt to hear you put it into words,“ you breathed, your heart beating in your chest.

"I waited for you to arrive because I wanted to dance with you, Y/N. No one else would have done. I’ve wanted to hold you close since the first time you threatened me with your knife in the kitchens. You are the most incredible woman that I have ever met and I wish it hadn’t taken you being injured to admit my feelings for you.”

There was so much you wanted to say to him, so many things to talk about, not least Cinderella, but before you could put any of your thoughts into words the sound of boots clattering on the hard floor came echoing down the corridor. Reluctantly putting a respectable space between you and Loki, missing the contact instantly, you turned towards the oncoming guard and bowed your head as he relayed his message.

"My prince, the king requests your company in his study.“ The guard looked over to you and almost regretfully added, "He commands your presence also, miss.”

The walk to Odin’s study was short but somehow seemed to last a lifetime. Loki kept his hand in your for the entire journey but the moment that the grand doors came into view he released his grip. Although you understood his actions, it didn’t stop them from hurting.

Stepping into the room, you immediately counted the guards - mainly for something other to do than look at Odin - before falling to your knees in respect for the king. “Your highness.”

"So, you are the child that I’ve heard so much about,“ Odin said, staring you down from where he sat. Even without his enormous golden throne he still commanded the room in a way you’d never seen elsewhere and to be the subject of his intense gaze made you feel two inches tall. "Are you not also the one that convinced my son to argue for the attendance of the common folk tonight?”

"I, um, yes. I suppose that was me, your majesty.“

"Hmm.” It almost amazed you how Odin effectively could convey his distaste for you in a single syllable. A long silence stretched across the room, you practically squirmed under the weight of it, before the king finally said, “Well. I should commend your bravery. Your actions saved many lives tonight. To express the gratitude of kingdom, you are to receive a better position in the royal household.”

"That really isn’t necessary, my king.“

"The decision has already been made,” Odin insisted, dismissing your protests with a mere wave of his hand. “You shall be Lady Cinderella’s new maid.”

Stumbling over your words as you processed what Odin was saying, you managed to ask, “Excuse me?”

Odin rose from his chair and gestured towards the blonde woman at the side of the room, whose presence you’d previously not noticed at all. She strutted towards the king - still in your beautiful dress - with an almost vicious smile on her face. “Lady Cinderella has travelled from Vanaheim and is to reside here at the palace while preparations are made for her to marry Prince Loki.”

"I beg your pardon?“ you asked, at the exact same time that Loki exclaimed, "Father?”

"Enough. The matter is settled,“ Odin said, cutting you both off. Directing his words at you, he added, "We are done here. You may leave. Show the Lady Cinderella to her new quarters.”

That deadly smile of hers growing even more, Cinderella strode over to your side and said, “I can’t wait to get to know you more, Y/N. This is going to be such fun.”


	6. Chapter 6

Bracing yourself for what you knew was about to come, you took a deep breath, smoothed down your skirt and let yourself in to Cinderella’s room. Unsurprisingly, she was already up and sat on the ledge by the window, looking down across the palace grounds. She looked peaceful, contemplative. In her long, flowing nightgown, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders despite not yet having been properly styled, she looked almost like a princess. How deceiving looks could be.

"What time do you call this?“ she asked harshly, not bothering to turn to face you. “How hard is it to do as you’re told and arrive on time?”

"Begging your pardon, my lady,“ you said, forcing yourself to retain some semblance of dignity. Cinderella was like this every morning, even when you were on time. There was always something that you were doing wrong or some task that could be done better, or quicker. But you took it in your stride for the money you were earning was considerably more than you had gotten in the kitchens. It was supporting Inga’s growing business and that seemed a good enough reason to put up with Cinderella’s attitude.

Placing a small bowl of fruit on the table, knowing that she wouldn’t touch any of it anyway, you asked, "How can I help you this morning?”

"I need you to draw me a bath. I am to meet Odin and the princes for a late breakfast and I can hardly turn up smelling like the help.“

Ignoring her comments, you set about running her a bath and whilst she soaked you laid out her clothes for the day. As you pressed the soft fabric, you thought that maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad job if only you had someone a little kinder to tend to. Like your fairy god mother, perhaps.

You hadn’t thought of her since the night of the ball, three weeks ago, and immediately felt bad for not thinking of her. How had she fared when the palace was attacked? Had she, like the rest of the court, heard fantastical tales of how you fought of the enemy? Would she think you reckless? Perhaps the most ridiculous question on your mind was: did she want her dress back? You weren’t sure why it mattered so much - she’d had hundreds of others, after all - but it felt wrong to keep the poor woman’s dress.

Making a mental note to ask around about her - something which would certainly be difficult, since you didn’t actually know the kind noble’s name - you felt relieved that at least if she did want her gown back that the royal cleaners had been able to remove the blood stains and fix all the tears. Thor had been right; they really could work miracles after battle.

Your thoughts of the beautiful and kind noble woman were pushed from your mind as your own beautiful and not so kind (possible not even noble) woman strode back into the main bedroom. She wore no towel to cover herself, favouring instead to dry naturally as she so called it. You knew she did it in an attempt to embarrass you but it hardly bothered you. It was nothing you’d never seen before. The upper class of Asgard rarely exhibited inhibitions when it came to physical intimacy so you’d seen your fair share of… well, everything throughout your time at the palace.

"Are you going to stand there staring all day or help me get ready?”

"Is there a third choice?“ you mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear. Cinderella didn’t grace you with a response and you were convinced that you caught the ghost of a smile on her lips. It didn’t surprise you that she found your insubordination amusing. At least you had a back bone. Other servants around the palace bent over backwards for the new princess to be and, as much as she clearly adored the attention, Cinderella also seemed to take pleasure in the way you pushed back against her. You were a challenge.

Standing behind her and helping lace up her corset, you tugged harshly down on the soft cords and felt a smug satisfaction as Cinderella stumbled backwards. "Must you be so heavy handed, girl?”

"Perhaps if you allowed the royal tailors to make you dresses that actually fitted, rather than being five inches too small around the waist, you wouldn’t have to wear such a tight corset,“ you breathed, digging your knee into her spine and pulling the cords until the back panels finally came together. "That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

You helped Cinderella into the many other layers that made up the dress, ignoring her grumbling about being unable to breathe in the damned corset, and then took a step back to make sure everything was properly in place. As annoying as it was, you had to admit that she did look beautiful in the gown. The tailors really had done a fantastic job. “You look lovely, my lady.”

Unable to believe her ears - you’d never complimented her or said anything remotely kind before - she ran her gaze up and down your outfit and shook her head. “It wouldn’t hurt you to wear a corset, you know. I’m sure you have a decent figure under there somewhere.”

"Thank you, my lady,“ you said through gritted teeth. "But I fear it would make crawling around on the floor to do the cleaning somewhat harder a job.”

Suddenly wishing you hadn’t said anything, catching that viciously conniving smirk in the reflection of the window, Cinderella spun around and said, “You know, I really do think that after all the hard work you do you deserve a reward, Y/N.”

You just hated the way that your name fell from her lips, dripping with an almost acidic kindness. It made you long to be stabbed again; for that could certainly be no more painful than whatever she had in store for you. Despite knowing it would do little to change her mind, you held up your hands and said, “That is really not necessary.”

"Nonsense. You are a member of the household, after all. If you are to accompany me to the most elite gatherings at the palace, you should be wearing more than those dull scrubs.“ As if to prove a point, she strode to your side and tugged on the discoloured linen sleeves of your dress with a look of utter despair on her face. It certainly didn’t help that she managed to find the only hole in the entire dress, putting her finger through it and shaking her head at the discovery. "No respectable princess would allow their closest confidant to be seen in this.”

"You’re not a princess yet,“ you breathed, pulling your arm free from her grip and hiding it behind your back.

Holding your gaze for a long moment, impressed that you refused to look away even though it was what every other servant would have done, Cinderella let out a quiet laugh before stepping away. She stood in front of a full length mirror, pulling her hair up into a messy braid. "I like you, Y/N. You possess great valour. But do not think that I will let that stop me from breaking you.”

"You may certainly try, my lady.“

She laughed once more but her sharp retort was cut off by a knock at the door. A heavy second passed before you realised that you were expected to open the door, despite Cinderella being closer, and when you did you felt your chest tighten. Bowing low, mainly just to avoid his gaze rather than out of respect, you breathed, "Prince Loki.”

"I have come to escort Lady Cinderella to breakfast,“ Loki said, never once taking his eyes off of you despite Cinderella’s ridiculous gestures of welcome. You stepped aside to allow her out into the corridor, silently falling into step behind the pair as they headed towards the grand hall.

Once you’d reached the hall, you nodded to Cinderella and informed her that you would return to her room to finish cleaning while she ate. You felt bad for the poor young girl that was working the hall, completely unaware of how horrid the princess to be was. Nudging elbows with the guard as you turned to leave, you whispered, "Ten gold pieces says she’ll run away crying before the hour is over.”

"I give it half as long,“ he whispered, subtly shaking your hand and winking at you from beneath his helmet. It was a game you and the guards played often when the rude, foreign royalty came to visit - a game you almost always won.

Feeling confident in your bet, you stepped out into the corridor only to be greeted by Loki. Or, rather, an illusion of Loki. "My prince,” you sighed, stepping around the illusion and continuing down the hallway.

However, much to your annoyance, the illusion continued to follow you through the palace, fighting to get your attention. Irritation coursing through your veins, you turned on your heels and, hand on hip, hissed, “What do you want, Loki?”

"I simply want to talk to you. Can I see you this evening?“

"I don’t think so. No. Enjoy your breakfast, my prince.” You managed to make it round the corner before giving in to the urge to look back over your shoulder to see if he had followed. You weren’t sure if you were glad or not that he hadn’t. Either way, you knew it wouldn’t be the last time that Loki tried to explain himself - a thought that filled you with a strange combination of dread and utter sadness.

***

"I swear, Y/N, I did not know that my father had chosen Cinderella to be my bride,“ Loki said, chasing after you as you stormed through the palace gardens. You weaved your way through the high hedges, hoping to somehow lose him amid the shrubbery, but Loki managed to keep up with you. "Y/N, please. We have to talk about this.”

"Talk about what, Loki?“ you hissed, spinning on your heels to face him despite yourself. The prince visibly flinched at your expression, hurt that you could be feeling so much hatred towards him. For a moment you felt guilty. You wondered if maybe, just maybe, he had been telling the truth and really had had no idea of Odin’s marriage plans. That uncertainty faded quickly, though, beaten away by the pain the entire situation had caused you.

For the past three weeks, you’d been stuck between a rock and hard place. You hadn’t spoke to Loki face to face since the night he’d kissed you (his illusions hardly counted in your mind) and every time you saw him you’d turned and fled in the opposite direction. You’d felt hurt, betrayed and humiliated. You’d given him your heart and, just as you’d feared, it had been torn apart. There was nothing you wanted more than to disappear back into the kitchens and move on with your life without him.

However, avoiding Loki (and therefore the heavy weight in your chest that hit every time you thought of him) had certainly proved difficult. He and Cinderella spent practically every waking moment of the day together and, as Cinderella’s lady’s maid, you were forced to spend just as much time with him. It wasn’t easy being near Loki, knowing that whenever his bride to be’s back was turned that he was watching you.

It certainly didn’t help that, amid your emotional turmoil, Cinderella was doing everything in her power to make your life a living hell and fulfil her promise to break you. No matter how closely to the letter you followed her requests (most of which verged in to completely unreasonable demands), she always managed to find some tiny detail to berate you on. And if she got to do it in front of Loki belittling you made her feel all the better.

Still, you put up with it because you had no other choice. If you did poison her wine - a sorely tempting option and so easy to do - you feared that Odin probably wouldn’t understand your reasoning. You really couldn’t risk your job, even if you were doing all of Asgard a favour by murdering their future princess before she had any real power to cause more people suffering.

Your thoughts of the soon to be princess reigniting your fury, you said, "Whatever you have to say, Loki, I really don’t want to hear it. Please, just go back to your fiancée and let me enjoy my evening off. I’ve not had a single night off since the ball and I just want some time alone.”

"You should know that there’s no privacy around the palace.“

"And there I was thinking that I’d be able to walk through the gardens in the dead of night without being ambushed. Loki, I swear if you take another step towards me…” Despite your warning, the prince reached out to touch your arm but jerked away the second you pulled a small blade from the folds of your skirt.

It was, in fact, one of Inga’s knives. Upon hearing that you’d been “promoted” to Cinderella’s servant, your sister had been adamant that you needed to be ready for anything. She didn’t trust the new princess to be any more than you did. After seeing her on parade outside the palace, Inga had immediately agreed with your perception that she was not a lady, not by any stretch of the imagination. She was also quite convinced that Cinderella wasn’t of Vanaheim either, although you had no real way to prove that.

Based on those bad feelings, the fact that she had stolen your dress at the ball and her attitude towards you, you had taken Inga’s advice and kept yourself well prepared for the backstabbing that you knew would be coming your way. However, after the last few months of your life, you had never expected to be pulling the knife on Loki with such a hateful conviction.

Whatever reaction you’d been expecting - shouting, pleading, drawing a dagger of his own and fighting you until you finally listened - Loki turning around a walking the other way was not it.

You refused to give him the satisfaction of giving in. There was no way that you were going to call out his name. To run after him, grab his hand and never let go again. Sneak out of the palace and run away. You would never let happen. No matter how much you would have loved for that fairytale to play out, you knew it never could.

Still…

Keeping so much distance between you that you almost lost him on multiple occasions, twisting and turning through the maze at the edge of the gardens, you held back when you saw Loki sit down on the edge of a rundown fountain. It looked like no one had visited this part of the grounds for millennia. Enormous stone statues, crumbling away after centuries of neglect. A thick, tangled mess of vines seemed to be creeping towards where the prince sat. And under the starry night, it was actually kind of beautiful.

Silently crossing the space, you perched on the furthest corner of the fountain and looked at Loki expectantly. Neither of you said anything while you waited for him to speak, running your fingers over the handle of your dagger just to distract yourself. When the quiet became overbearing, you threw the blade at the prince and groaned, “For goodness sake, Loki, just speak your mind.”

"This is the one of the few places in the palace that no one will ever find you. No one knows about it.“

”You know about it.“

"I’ll always be able to find you, then.” Loki didn’t miss the way that you turned your head aside, trying to hide your smile. It gave him hope. And that was just enough to spur him into acting. Shuffling around to your side, Loki dropped the blade back into your lap and placed his hand over yours.

It was ridiculous that even when you wanted to hate him Loki could still somehow brighten your mood. But that voice in your head wouldn’t let it go. Pulling your hand out from beneath his, you took a deep breath and said, “Say whatever it is you have to, Loki, and then just go. Go back to your fiancée. Let me enjoy my night off.”

"I didn’t know, Y/N. I swear.“

"Is that all you have to say?”

"I had rather hoped that would be enough,“ Loki admitted.

Shaking your head, you rose to your feet and curtseyed. "Goodnight, my prince.”

Refusing to let you slip away, Loki followed you back through the gardens towards the palace. He stayed a few steps behind you - a break in protocol which felt incredibly strange; after all servants followed their masters, not the other way around - and never said a word. When you finally turned to face him and talk, he walked straight past you.

"Loki, I… Hey! Where are you going?“ Jogging after him, struggling to keep up with his ridiculously fast stride, you reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him from going any further. Amusement filled his eyes as he looked at your hand wrapped around his wrist, remaining even after you dropped your arm back to your side.

Biting the inside of your lip as you tried to organise your thoughts, unable to clearly identify any one feeling, you settled on a simply apology for your behaviour. "I’m sorry, Loki.”

That seemed to be all that Loki needed to hear for he instantly stepped forward and wrapped his arms around your neck, burying your head in his chest and resting his chin on the top of your head. “I’m sorry too, Y/N.”

You were surprised to feel Loki’s hands trembling against your skin as he stroked your hair. Pulling back slightly, meeting his eyes in the dim light, you asked, “What is it, Loki?”

"I think… I do believe I love you, Y/N.“

"What?” you exclaimed, going stiff in his arms. Blinking a few times, trying to work out if you’d heard him properly or if your brain was playing tricks on you, you collected yourself enough to say, “I beg your pardon?”

This time more confidently, Loki repeated, “I love you, Y/N.”

"What about Cinderella?“

"She is a beautiful woman,” he said, frowning slightly. You weren’t sure what reaction he’d been expecting of you but this almost indifference was certainly not it. Brushing a lock of hair from your face, Loki continued, “She is not you, though. It is you that I love, Y/N.”

"You have to marry her, Loki. How do you think Odin will react if he find out that we… That I was to stand in the way of the wedding. He would have my head.“ Trying to step away from him, to put a little distance between you and clear your head of all the wonderful but impossible possibilities that now flooded your mind, you were annoyed when Loki tightened his hold. Whacking him on the arm, knowing it would do little good, you hissed, "Let go of me, Loki.”

Loki did just that but then proceeded to match every step you took until he had backed you up against a corner of the palace walls. Arms resting either side of your head, he leant down and brushed his lips against yours, claiming you as his with the most gentle of kisses. Unable to ignore the warmth that spread through your body, you kissed him back with an equal tentativeness.

"Stop thinking. I can practically hear your brain going,“ Loki breathed, tracing the lines on your face with his fingers. You couldn’t help but giggle as he ran his fingers over your eyelashes, down the side of your nose and to your lips. He followed the shape of your lower lip with his thumb, his nail catching your top lip. You gasped as the brief touch caused your sensitive skin to tingle, closing your eyes when he did it again.

His mouth against your ear as his fingers found yours and locked together, Loki whispered, "We can work this out. You and me, Y/N. Together.”

"Loki…“ The prince pulled away, disappointment and fear flooding his features as he braced himself for your rejection. You rested a hand on his cheek and guided him back down, meeting him half way for another barely there kiss. Your own nerves clear to see, almost scared to voice your desires in case someone else heard, even though you were alone in the gardens, you eventually breathed, "Together? No matter what?”

"No matter what. Oh, I love you so much, Y/N,“ Loki grinned, wrapping you in his arms. You felt so safe, protected against the harsh realities of the world with him by your side. But you weren’t naive enough to think this would be easy. After all, he was still engaged to Cinderella and neither she nor Odin would be impressed about your secret courtship with the prince to say the least.

While you hadn’t been completely serious earlier, you knew that if you were found out the penalty for this would almost certainly be your death. Still… You were going to die eventually, right? May as well have a little fun before the time came but whether that would be sooner or later you weren’t entirely sure.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr @startrekkingaroundasgard for earlier updates!

"Did I mention that I hate you?“

Cinderella practically cackled from the other side of the room where she was stretched out across the most luxurious chaise longue. Covered in the many layers of flowing fabric that she’d come to favour since moving in to the palace, she would have looked perfectly in place among in the many beautiful paintings of ancient queens that decorated the grand hall. Popping a grape into her mouth, she grinned, "Multiple times a day, Y/N.”

"As long as you know,“ you said, wincing as the royal tailor pulled the ribbons on the back of your new corset tighter. Wanting nothing more than to bend over and catch your breath, unable to as the sharp bones dug into your chest and forced you stand upright instead, you peered over your shoulder to Cinderella and scowled. She simply smirked back in return.

Somehow in the past few days you’d fallen into a very strange rapport with the princess to be. Neither of you trusted the other - you knew for a fact that Cinderella also carried a small knife beneath her skirts, just in case you or anyone else actually decided to try and stab her in the back - and you hated being in one another’s company. However, at the same time, you couldn’t help but enjoy the sharp retorts and not so subtle slights against the other. Surrounded by so much posturing and political manoeuvring within the court, it was almost nice to be so upfront for once. Almost.

"Why are these even necessary?” you grunted, feeling the tailor tie a loose knot in the ribbon. “You certainly don’t need to wear one.”

"They’re quite fashionable where I am from.“

"And where’s that, my lady? Vanaheim, yes? Only last year I was temporarily assigned to another lady of that realm and I cannot recall her wearing such a thing.”

Cinderella’s fingers twitched at her side, running over the handle of her concealed blade as she weighed up the risks of just killing you now. After a few tense seconds, her hand relaxed as she deemed you not worth the effort. At least not yet. Plastering a fake smile on her face, she practically hissed, “Well, that was a whole year ago. Fashions change. ”

"Indeed they do,“ the tailor piped up, either unaware of or deciding to completely ignore the tension between you. "And no one is more grateful than I, for it keeps me in a job! Now, my lady, what do you think of the fit?”

"Do you think you could take it an inch further?“ Cinderella asked, narrowing her eyes at you until they were barely more than slits. You’d known that she would try her hardest to make you pay for any comment about her "home” in Vanaheim but were still eager to risk it for the off chance that she actually revealed some useful information about her true origins. Crushing another grape between her teeth, Cinderella tilted her head to the side and in a sickly sweet voice said, “Surely you wouldn’t leave me to suffer in a tight bind alone, Y/N?”

"I wouldn’t recommend it,“ the tailor replied, before you could send back another biting reply. It was probably for the best. While he seemed to understand that your open hatred for each other was more of a game than anything else, if you actually threatened to harm her or let her suffer in any way then he was obligated to inform the crown. And you really didn’t want to be charged with treason today.

His hands began wandering to help you rearrange yourself in the front of the corset, although he immediately stepped away upon catching the murderous intentions in your eyes. You patted him on the arm heartily to let him know that he’d made the right decision, comforted in the knowledge that it’d leave a bruise. Maybe it would help remind him to keep his hands to himself next time.

Grabbing a tape measure to finalise the sizes for your new dresses, the man continued, "If she were to be enjoying the life of luxury that you and the other nobles enjoy then perhaps it would be possible but to go about with her regular duties as a maid… I would strongly advise against it, my lady.”

"Fine,“ Cinderella sighed. As much as she wanted to make your life difficult (a task with which she was most certainly succeeding), she didn’t actually want you dead. Not when she was having so much fun taunting you. If you did die, there was no guarantee that her new lady’s maid would be anywhere near as entertaining as you and she didn’t want to risk that. So, for now at least, she settled on the looser corset.

Not that loose was that apt of a description.

With the bones digging in to your rib cage, pressing so hard against your skin that you were definitely getting bruises, any movement more than simply breathing was nigh on impossible. How you were going to go about your daily duties in such a garment you did not know. Still. You would find a way to succeed, just out of spite for the princess to be.

"As for her dresses themselves…” Cinderella began spieling off all sorts of requirements to the tailor. She never once slowed in her descriptions, even when the poor man was scribbling so fast that his hand nearly dropped off. Your attention drifted a little, not really interested in the discussion about the minute details, but you were surprised by what you heard. For all her threats, it actually sounded like they were to be beautiful gowns.

You’d half expected her to put you in some ridiculous costume, to parade you around behind her like a fool for the entire court to laugh at. But what she described sounded simple and elegant, and almost practical. Like she’d almost spared a thought for the fact that your job was a physical one and you needed a little give in the dresses.

Thinking about it, it made sense really. If she wanted to be taken seriously by the other lords and ladies of the court then dressing you up like a joke wasn’t the way to go. However, spoiling a lowly servant with gorgeous gowns and treating her like an equal (at least in public)… That would go a long way to improving her image.

When Cinderella finally waved the tailor away, she rose from the chaise longue and began pacing around the room. It was quite unnerving really. You’d never seen her remotely close to tense and it was putting you on edge as well. Despite knowing that you should leave well enough alone, you asked, “Is everything alright?”

"Perfectly,“ she said, flashing you a hollow smile. Somehow, it was even worse than her usual smirk. There was no amusement there. Not even a single drop of emotion. Cold and unfeeling as the winter snow. Waving her hand dismissively, she declared, "I’m going for a walk around the gardens. You needn’t join me. Stay here and finish cleaning or whatever it is you do when I’m not here.”

"I finished my chores this morning before the tailor arrived so, if it’s all the same with you, I would appreciate the afternoon off.“

Cinderella held your gaze before stretching out her arm and knocking over a large plant pot, sending soil and sharp pieces of ceramic across the floor. "Oops. I’m just so clumsy sometimes, aren’t I? When you’ve sorted out that mess, go find another pot to replace that one before I get back. I couldn’t bear to have the other still standing and have the room be asymmetrical. I’ll never be able to sleep tonight if it isn’t sorted.”

A tight smile on your lips, you nodded and wished her a pleasant walk. “I do so hope that you don’t trip and crack your skull on the fountains, my lady. Being as clumsy as you are.”

You heard her laugh from down the corridor, the usually harsh sound almost genuine for once. Rolling your eyes, for lack of any better way to convey your feelings about the princess to be, you set about cleaning up the mess that Cinderella had made. When you finally finished crawling around the floor collecting the pieces of the shattered ceramic pot, there was a gentle knock on the door.

"It’s open,“ you called. Not bothering to check who it was, you said, "Lady Cinderella has gone for a walk through the gardens. I can pass on any message to her later.”

"It’s not her I came to see.“ Loki slipped through the doors, shutting them behind him and leaning against them.

Looking up at him from the ground, transfixed by the complete contrast of his relaxed posture and the unwavering intensity in his eyes, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks. You brushed the hair from your face as you jumped up to your feet, twisting the broom around in your hand. When Loki didn’t say anything else, you raised an eyebrow and asked, "What are you staring at?”

"Nothing at all, my love. I was just appreciating this new uniform of yours.“

"I’m not… What do you… Oh!” You suddenly understood what he was talking about, dropping the broom in shock. After Cinderella and the tailor had left, you hadn’t bothered to change back into your usual day clothes so were standing before the prince in nothing more than the ridiculous corset and a thin underskirt. After all, you hadn’t exactly been expecting company. And you certainly hadn’t expected to be found crawling around the floor in nothing but undergarments. Distraught, you stumbled, “I can… This is not… Well, actually it is…”

"Hush, darling. You look absolutely ravishing.“ He took your hands in his and guided you over to the chaise longue, sitting you down beside him. You automatically shuffled closer, tangling your legs together as the hung over the edge and his arm slipped around your waist. "Just breathe. Then you can tell me about your unusual choice of outfit today.”

"Breathing in this is not as easy as you’d expect,“ you said, shifting uncomfortably as the corset bones dug in to your rib cage. Noticing your pain, Loki turned you around and began tugging on the cords that pulled the corset so tight. You let out an indignant grunt and tried to move away, frowning when his hands fell on your hips to hold you still. The warning clear, you murmured, "Don’t try it, Loki…”

You could feel the smirk on his lips as he nuzzled against your neck, placing a kiss over your pulse point. Closing your eyes despite yourself, you let out a deep sigh and leant backwards into him. His low whisper sending shivers down your spine, Loki said, “Trust me, Y/N. I would not dare. I was just going to loosen it for you.”

Giving the prince an apologetic peck on the cheek, you let him loosen the ribbon that was holding the corset so tightly shut. It immediately gave you more room to breathe and move and felt like an enormous weight had been lifted from your chest. You could even slouch a bit now and took full advantage of that, basically collapsing into Loki’s lap and curling your legs up on to the incredibly comfortable chaise longue. “Oh, that feels so much better.”

"I’m glad to hear it. Now tell me, my darling, why in all the realms you’re even wearing such a thing. You are far too beautiful as you are to need to alter these curves.“ As if to prove his point, Loki ran a hand along your side, over your hips and down to your thighs. Even with the fabric of your underskirt to protect you from his touch, the gentle, almost adoring brushes were enough to elicit a quiet moan from your lips.

"They’re all the fashion in Vanaheim,” you breathed, trying to ignore the reassurance you felt from Loki’s hand on your hips. You didn’t want to give in to your feelings for the prince but at this rate… To say that your hold on your self control was wavering may have been an understatement.

When he asked what Vanaheim had to do with anything, you explained, “Cinderella wears one and thought it unfair that she should suffer and not I. So I am to be fitted out with an entirely new wardrobe and forced to wear this - while still attending my usual duties, I may add - until I pass out from being unable to breathe. It’s that or admit defeat and let her win. I refuse to do that.”

"I find it hard to believe that lady Cinderella’s intention is to cause you pain, Y/N.“

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, knowing the completely opposite to be the actual truth. "Well, of course you can’t see it. She’s only this way in private to me. In public, it’s all smiles and charm and wrapping people around those perfect little fingers of hers.”

"Y/N…“

Cutting him off before you had to hear him try and defend his future wife, you said, "You know what, Loki, let’s just forget I said anything. There’s no way you could understand anyway.”

Loki suddenly stiffened and you wished you’d never even brought it up. What could have been a nice, quiet afternoon together was now going to be tarred because of Cinderella. Even now, despite him declaring his love for you, she still had Loki blind to her true nature. Oh, you hated her so much. She didn’t even need to be in the same room as you to ruin your day.

Sitting up and stepping away from the chaise longue, you bowed your head and breathed, “I should get back to work.”

When Loki didn’t argue or try to convince you otherwise, you shook your head acknowledging for what felt like the millionth time how foolish you were to think that this could actually work. Holding the door open for him, you said softly, “I think you should leave.”

Your heart felt close to breaking as Loki crossed the room towards you, fearing that this was to be the end already. So, when he pushed the door shut and brushed his fingers lightly across your cheek, you couldn’t help but let out a quiet sob. Loki instantly pulled you into a tight embrace, whispering promises that he’d never leave you and that everything was going to work out perfectly for you both.

"Help me understand, my love.“

"I’ve been a servant at the palace my entire adult life, Loki. I’ve met my fair share of nobles and none of them act the way that Cinderella does. The others are rude and ungrateful but she has a personal vendetta against me.”

"But why would a lady of Vanaheim, of you whom you’d never heard of a month ago, let alone crossed paths with, have reason to single you out?“

"She knows that I know.”

You didn’t realise that the thought had actually left your mouth until you saw Loki’s frown. His eyes dark, forehead crumpled and covered in lines as he processed your words, he asked, “You know what, Y/N?”

The temptation to tell him everything was overwhelming but something - or rather the thought of a specific someone - stopped you. Until you had actual proof to show that Cinderella was not who she claimed to be, physical records or infallible confessions that Odin himself would have no choice but to believe, you weren’t ready to share your theories. Not even to Loki.

In fact, especially not to Loki.

For some reason, he still seemed to believe that she was a good person. You could see the doubt in his eyes; he was unconvinced by your reasoning, even though he wanted to understand where you were coming from. Somehow, she had managed to fool the god of lies himself.

As much as it hurt, you knew that he believed Cinderella to be innocent. Well. Perhaps not innocent, exactly, but at least less of a sociopath than you made her out to be. And you knew that, if push came to shove, for the sake of appearances within the court, Loki would choose her side over yours. He had no choice, after all she was his fiancée. That’s what you told yourself anyway. The thought that he might choose her over you just because made your heart ache.

So, instead of lowering yourself to Cinderella’s pitiful level by shouting, screaming and trying to assassinate her character without proof, you summoned a smile from deep within and said, “Never mind. As much as I appreciate you coming to visit me, I really do need to finish cleaning in here and I need to find a replacement plant for this side of the room, so had best get changed too.”

"What happened to the poor plant anyway?“

"Cinderella pu… She tripped and knocked it over by accident. In the heels that she wears, I’m just surprised she doesn’t fall more often,” you said, pushing as much fake cheer into your voice as you could stomach.

Clearly oblivious to your forced amusement at the situation, Loki squeezed your hand and said, “I shall send word to the gardeners and have a replacement sent up so you needn’t worry running around the palace trying to hunt another down.”

"Thank you, Loki.“ You kissed him on the cheek and this time your smile was genuine; you really did appreciate him sorting that out for you. It was infuriating but the royal gardeners were far more likely to respond to the request of a prince than that of a serving girl. And you were willing to take any help you could get when it came to dodging the wrath of Cinderella.

"Perhaps I could see you again this evening,” Loki asked, his hand pausing on the door knob. “I have sorely missed just sitting and reading in your company.”

"I’ve missed that too,“ you said, realising just how true it was. For months Loki had sat by your side on that window ledge in the kitchen, reading and ignoring the world (all except you), and those quiet moments had been magnificent. His friendly affection for you had been so clear to see, so easy to return when there had been nothing else in the way. You suddenly wished that your relationship could return to that level of comfort and ease.

"Is that a yes, then?”

"Yes, Loki,“ you grinned, allowing him to draw you into another embrace before eventually wriggling free of his arms and shoving him towards the door. "Go. Find me my replacement plant while I finish cleaning. I’ll see you tonight in the library?”

When you were finally alone again, you closed the door and let out a deep sigh. You weren’t sure exactly what was weighing so heavily on your conscience and decided that now was not the time to worry. Pushing it aside, you changed back into your usual work clothes and set about once again sweeping the floor.

Interrupted by a knock at the door, you groaned until realising that it was almost certainly the replacement plant. Hurrying over, you let in the poor man sent to carry a plant pot almost twice the size of him. It was so large and obnoxious that it completely covered his face and you had to run to his assistance when he nearly tripped over his own feet and dropped the ceramic vase.

Turning to thank him, you were met with a highly unexpected face. “Thor?”

"Sweet lady Y/N, it is such a pleasure to see you again!“ he bellowed, clapping his hand on your back. "Tell me, how has your wound healed?”

"The healers did fine work. There’s almost no scar now,“ you said, almost in a daze at his appearance. Blinking a few times to check that you really weren’t going mad - wondering if spending all morning bound in a corset had deprived your brain of so much oxygen that you were now hallucinating - you asked, "My prince, why are you here?”

"I came to speak to you, of course,“ he said as if it were obvious. Not giving you a chance to argue, he slung an arm around your shoulders and led you out in to the corridor, aimlessly leading you around the palace.

"But why were you, a prince of Asgard, delivering the miniature tree?”

"I passed a young boy half your size on my way up here. He looked completely overwhelmed by that monstrosity so I offered to take it for him, since I was already on route.“ Carrying on as if what he had said was not the most heart warming thing you’d heard that day (week, or month), Thor asked bluntly, "How have you been coping as Lady Cinderella’s lady’s maid, Y/N?”

Still stunned by the fact that Thor had sought you out, and carried a tree through the palace without anyone seemingly bothering to ask why, you blurted honestly, “It isn’t easy.”

Having once again spoken without thinking, you tried to back track and explain your remark but Thor silenced you. Shaking his head, a sad smile on his face, he admitted with an honesty to match yours, “I feared as such. Y/N, the reason I sought you out was that, ever since the night of the ball, I have been unable to stop thinking about something you said to me.”

"My prince?“

"I have told you before not to stand on ceremony with me, Y/N. I meant what I said before; I should very much like for us to be friends and as such you needn’t bother with titles. They’re so tiresome. Anyway,” Thor said, checking up and down the long corridor to ensure that you would not be overheard. Lowering his voice to nothing more than a low grumble - a strange thing to hear from a prince usually so boisterous - he asked, “You told me that on the night of the ball, you were not wearing your own dress, yes?”

You nodded, vaguely recalling Thor carrying you around the castle after you’d been stabbed. “Yes, the dress belonged to… Well, actually, I still don’t know her name but she was kind enough to lend me a gown after my own was… misplaced.”

"Indeed. It is that I wish to discuss with you. That evening, you told me that your dress had been stolen. By the lady Cinderella.“

The blood drained from your face and you had to breathe deeply to stop yourself from succumbing to dizziness. Unsure where this was heading, but knowing that Thor deserved the truth after seeking you out to specifically discuss this, you gave a sharp nod. "That gown was made by my sister, Inga, and given to me for my birthday many years ago. I know the place of every stitch, every gemstone on it. I am certain that it was she that took it from my bag. It sounds ridiculous, and I know it’s practically treason to suggest such a thing, but I am sure…”

"I believe you,“ Thor said, cutting you off before you could say anything else. You looked up from the ground and met his gaze, amazed to see that he was being 100% truthful. He did believe you. "Your words stuck in my mind these past weeks and I have been watching lady Cinderella closely to see if there could be any possible truth to your accusations.”

"What convinced you?“

"I sent word to a trusted friend in Vanaheim to learn more about her past. This morning I received his reply; he had never heard of a lady Cinderella. Wherever she is from, Vanaheim is not it. I would have brought it straight to my father but the word of a commoner would hold little sway over his opinion of her. Anything I claimed would have been written off as jealousy over the fact my brother was to marry and not I.”

"So, you came straight to me?“

"Yes. I believe that with your help, Y/N, we may be able to find enough proof to bring to my father and show once and for all that Cinderella is not who she alleges to be.”

Running a hand through your hair, understandably a little overwhelmed by his proposition - after all, you were a servant not a spy! - you asked, “Why are you doing this, Thor?”

"The throne of Asgard is a sacred duty. I do not wish to see it corrupted by a liar and a thief. If she is a danger, I do not want to be unprepared should she try anything against the crown, or my brother.“ His fiercely determined gaze suddenly softened and he said, "I also cannot bear to stand by and see a friend miserable, Y/N. Will you help me find the truth about her?”

With little more than another moment’s consideration, you felt a smirk growing on your lips and said, “Let’s bring this bitch down.”


	8. Chapter 8

"I swear, if you so much as think it, I’ll take Mjolnir and bash your head in,“ you warned Thor, cringing as you collapsed into the large chair by his window. You swung your legs over the arm and just lay across it for a moment, hoping to alleviate some of the force on your ribs. Pushing your hair from your face, you turned towards the smirking prince and groaned, "I’d rather wear nothing than this… this… medieval Midgardian torture device! It’s like a permanent vice around my chest! I can barely breathe! And then with everyone staring and saying… things...”

Leaning against the wall, laughing out loud when you ungracefully rolled off the chair and crawled across to the room towards his bed, Thor asked, “I take it that certain members of the court have been less than discrete in their opinions of your new attire?”

"Oh, your bed is so comfy,“ you sighed, stretching out your limbs as far as you could but still not reaching the edges. It moulded to the shape of your body, distorted as it was by the horribly constricting corset, and relieved a little of the crushing pressure on your chest. Shuffling up the length and resting your head amid the mountain of pillows, you looked over to the prince and said, "No, seriously. I’m not moving.”

"You are welcome to share my bed any time, Y/N.“

You caught sight of his overly suggestive grin as he moved to join you on the enormous bed, shuffling over to make space for him by your side. "Don’t you start. I told you that I’ve already had enough of that sort of suggestion already today. Although most were considerably less polite in their offer. Nobles can be so crude.”

"Indeed but, whether you like it or not, you are difficult to ignore in such a beautiful dress. Of course, I would never dream of stealing you away from my brother, lest I incur his eternal wrath. I’d pity any man or woman who dreamed of laying hands on what is his.“

"I’ve managed to avoid Loki so far today,” you said, ignoring Thor’s comment about your relationship with the younger prince. Since you were unable to be public about it, Thor was the only other person on Asgard that knew of your feelings for one another. Around others he held his tongue but when you two were alone he made no attempts to censor his thoughts. “And I’m not his. I am no object to own.”

"I meant no offence, Y/N. You know that I see you as more than just an object.“

"I know.”

Exchanging smiles, Thor patted your arm and asked, “Why are you hiding from my brother, anyway? Surely, if you wanted anyone’s attention in this gown, it would be his? I would be surprised if Loki could form so much a single coherent thought in your presence.”

"That’s exactly why I am avoiding him. It’s one thing to be ogled by strangers but if Loki saw me in this ridiculous thing, I have no idea what he’ll do. I’d rather not make a fool of myself that way.“

"Trust me, Y/N, if either of you is to be acting the fool, it will Loki. When he sees you in this…” Thor raised his eyebrows suggestively, leaving the rest to your imagination. After a little more teasing, the prince’s demeanour instantly changed the second you heard a knock on the door. He was still relaxed but the playfulness had been replaced by a dogged determination. Calling in his guests, you hopped off the bed the moment you realised who they were - the warriors three and lady Sif, in the flesh - and tried (heavily restricted by that damned corset) to bow down to them.

Thor threw his arm around you and pulled you back to your feet, laughing. “You needn’t bow to these fools. My friends, I assume you know of lady Y/N.”

"Indeed! I’ve heard many tales of your bravery,“ Fandral said, flashing that ridiculous smile of his before reaching for your hand and bringing it to his lips. "You are something of a legend among the household, my lady.”

"You can flirt later, Fandral. We have work to do,“ lady Sif said, rolling her eyes at how the men could barely take their eyes off of you. As much as you wanted to say you hated it, you couldn’t. Unlike the rest of Asgard’s upper class, the warriors eyed you with great respect and friendly interest rather than seeing you simply as a beautiful woman to charm to their beds. That felt pretty great. It was no wonder that Thor held them in such high regard. 

"Come, my friends. Sit.” Thor gestured towards the large table and everyone took their seats, the atmosphere in the room suddenly a lot heavier. To the warriors, the prince asked, “Have you learnt anything more of Cinderella’s origins?”

Although you’d hardly been expecting a breakthrough, your heart dropped in your chest upon confirmation that they indeed had nothing new to report. Thor immediately clocked your dejection and said, “Do not worry, Y/N. Whatever her intentions here, we will make sure that no harm comes to you.”

"It’s not me I’m worried about,“ you mumbled under your breath.

"Very noble of you indeed,” Fandral said, earning him another eye roll from lady Sif. “What? Honour and valour in a woman are by far the most attractive traits. You can hardly blame a man for…”

"I have seen her in the palace grounds talking to a few of the guards,“ you said, cutting that line of discussion off before it went any further. Still, you couldn’t help but smile at Fandral’s flattery and you knew he’d seen you blushing when he winked in your direction.

Much to everyone’s amusement, it was Thor that winked back and when you’d finally collected your wits you explained, "Every day for the past week, Cinderella has left her room in the middle of the afternoon to wander the gardens. She always goes alone but there’s a window in the servant’s corridor that overlooks a usually hidden part of the grounds. Those parts of the gardens are supposed to be closed off, though. I don’t know how she’s getting out there without arousing suspicion.”

The warriors nodded along, very interested to hear about your secret vantage point. “The whole southward facing side of the palace is servant’s quarters. Most of the windows were shattered and boarded up after the attack but there are a few that are still intact.”

"Would you recognise the men you saw her with?“ Hogun asked, speaking for the first time.

You shook your head, apologising. While you’d been able to recognise the uniform of the guards, seeing them all the time around the palace, they had been too far away to notice any details about them. The only reason you knew for sure that it had even been Cinderella there was because of how distinctive her dresses were around the court - after all no one, not even Frigga, wore such audacious shades.

Despite Thor’s reassurances that you had nothing to apologise for, you still felt bad that there was nothing more you could add to the discussion. Especially when it moved away from Cinderella and the warriors began to focus on the unrest in the outer villages. Your attention drifted, the defence plans of the kingdom feeling like something you really shouldn’t be privy to.

"Oh!” you exclaimed, pushing your chair from the table with such speed that the warriors actually drew their weapons to fight of the invisible foe. Waving you hands in the air to calm them, you said, “I’m sorry, I’ve got somewhere else I need to be. I didn’t realise the hour.”

You bid farewell to the warriors and allowed Thor to escort you to the door, whereupon he whispered, “Do not do anything rash to anger Cinderella, Y/N. Until we can say otherwise, we should treat her intentions here as hostile. You must stay safe. Leave this to myself and the warriors. If she doesn’t know you suspect anything, you will be far safer. Now, go and enjoy your evening with my brother.”

Smiling as he closed the door, you felt it drop the moment you were alone. Thor was right; Cinderella was almost certainly dangerous. However, if her intention was to cause harm to Asgard - or more specifically a certain prince of Asgard - then you would do everything in your power to find out the truth about her and stop anyone from getting hurt. Your own safety be damned.

Those were thoughts for another time, though. Now, you had somewhere else to be.

Practically skidding around the corner and into the library, your chest was heaving after having raced around the palace, desperately trying not to be seen entering what was well known as Loki’s favourite part of the library. It was hard enough to sneak around the halls on a normal day but doing so whilst in a corset and the kind of dress that was impossible to ignore made it all the much more difficult. Bending over the little you could as you tried to catch your breath, resting against the back door, you said, “I’m sorry I’m late, Loki. I was talking to your brother.”

Loki looked up from his book and his eyes darkened. “My brother?”

"And the warriors,“ you added quickly, half wishing that the floor would open beneath your feet and swallow you up with the way that he was looking at you. His gaze bore in to you, sending a heat surging through your body.

"You went to visit my brother and his friends in this?” Loki asked, his book long forgotten as he strode across the library. Stopping less than a foot away, his hands immediately found your waist, pulling you towards him and closing the distance between you. He seemed mesmerised by the way that the beautiful flowing fabric of your dress clung to your body, highlighting and accentuating each and every glorious curve.

Finally tearing his attention away from the incredible fit of the gown, Loki met your gaze and that heat you were feeling flared up like a fire inside you. Cupping your face in his hand, the prince breathed, “Y/N, you look…”

"Ridiculous, I know,“ you whispered, not quite sure that you’d be able to restrain yourself if he persisted in calling you beautiful with that almost hungry look in his eyes. Loki’s expression was so intense that you wanted to run and hide from it, but at the same time felt the desire to meet him head on and take what you both clearly wanted. Consequences be damned.

"Resplendent,” he corrected, brushing his thumb slowly over your bottom lip, your nerves sparking at the touch. The hand on your waist was gradually snaking lower, not that you were going to protest as Loki pulled you even closer until your chests were touching. Placing a deep kiss on your lips, the kind that both promised and inspired passion, Loki said, “Darling, my love, you look a queen. A goddess, even. Deserving of worship.”

"I’m nothing of the kind,“ you said, although your further arguments were swallowed up by another deep kiss. When Loki pulled away you opened you mouth to protest but the words died on your lips as the prince sunk to his knees before you.

It was almost funny to see him kneeling for you, battling with the many layers of your skirt as he slid his hands reverentially up and down your legs, as if it were the greatest honour to touch you. The humour you felt soon shifted to something far more primal when Loki began peppering kisses across your sensitive skin. Nipping tiny bruises with his teeth, you gasped sharply as he moved up and sucked a bruise on your inner thigh.

"Loki,” you moaned, tugging on his hair in a way that actually only seemed to encourage him. That not being what you intended, but certainly something to remember for a later date, you pulled back and said, “I think I heard someone outside.”

Moments later, the door to the library clicked open and you immediately shoved Loki away, pushing so hard that he practically flew back and hit his head on a nearby bookshelf. You tried to send Loki an apologetic look, although it probably came across as something more akin to panic or regret. You certainly didn’t regret what had almost happened between you but in that moment were more concerned with self preservation than hurting the prince’s feelings. If anyone had seen you in that sort of position… Suddenly the consequences that you’d so easily ignored earlier seemed much more tangible.

Of course, as if it weren’t bad enough to be walked in on already, when you saw the face in the doorway you knew the universe had it in for you.

"My lady,“ you said, not so subtly tugging the fabric of your skirt straight as you curtseyed. Your eyes flicking between Cinderella and Loki, who was just hidden from view behind the bookshelf you’d pushed him towards, you asked, "Can I do something for you? Only, it is my day off…”

Cinderella crossed over the threshold of the door and into the library, and you immediately matched her steps to prevent her from getting close enough to see Loki. A sickly sweet smile on her face, she said, “I was hoping to speak to you about a few alterations on your dresses. I heard from the other ladies in court that you were struggling to breathe a little in them. You should have told me, Y/N. I would just hate for you to suffer on my account.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, both of you recalling the multiple times you had indeed told her that what you thought of the corsets. “We could discuss this in the morning, my lady.”

"Of course, how silly of me. It was just that I heard you were still around the palace and thought I’d try and catch you. Perhaps you’d join me on the walk back to my room on your way out.“ It was fairly clear that you had no choice but to accept her request. Her gaze drifted to the bookshelf where you assumed Loki was still hiding - although you wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d snuck away a long time ago - and she smirked, "Unless you have something else keeping you here?”

She knew.

You gave a brief nod and followed her out the library, forcing yourself not to look back over your shoulder. Maintaining your few steps behind her, you walked in silence until you reached Cinderella’s room. If you weren’t worried before, you certainly were when she held the door open for you.

"My lady, I can explain,“ you said, scuffling away from Cinderella until your back hit the far wall. She stalked slowly towards you like a hunter closing in on their prey, a dangerous glare in her eyes. "Loki… The prince and I…”

"Oh, please. As if I actually care about that,“ Cinderella scoffed, waving her hand dismissively as she closed the space between you. Poking at your chest, she smirked, "You are nothing to me. Just look at you. You are pathetic, weak and boring. Loki will tire of you soon enough when the thrill of sneaking around is gone and then I will still be here, faithfully awaiting his return.”

"Faithfully?“ you asked incredulously. "I’ve seen you in the gardens with those other men.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly not taking you seriously. “And so what if I’ve been enjoying the gardens with company other than my husband to be? No one will believe your word over that of a lady. How can you have dedicated your life to the palace and not realise that you are worth no more than the dirt on the guards’ boots? You are but an insignificant nuisance, Y/N. The sooner you realise that no one will ever love you, the easier your life will be.”

Anger flowing through your veins, finally no longer able to contain your disdain for the woman that had made your life a misery for the past three months, you hissed, “Loki loves me.”

Cinderella let out a harsh laugh, the kind that felt like sandpaper on your skin. She grabbed you by the neck, squeezing tightly as she pressed you hard against the cold wall. Her perfectly manicured nails dug into your skin so hard that they may well have drawn blood. Complete undeterred, she said, “You are delusional. Loki loves no one but himself. He is playing with you like a child with a toy. If you don’t believe me, ask him where he was the night of the ball. Ask him why he didn’t come to see you in the infirmary straight away. Loki doesn’t care about you at all. You are a nothing more than a challenge; a conquest he has yet to claim.”

Struggling to breathe as her grip tightened even more, her sharp nails now certainly drawing blood, you croaked, “You’re lying.”

"Why would I? It’s not me that has everything to lose should it come out that he’s been sneaking around the palace to see you. I’m his future wife. It will be me that gets the sympathy of the court, not you. My position here is safe. Yours is not.“

She finally released her hold, stepping away and brushing her hands together as you crashed to the ground. Cinderella let out a sigh as she crouched down beside you. Her hand fell on your shoulder, in what anyone watching would believe to be a comforting gesture, when in fact it was just another way of applying pressure to keep you down. "He is the master of lies, Y/N. I thought you were intelligent but if you’ve ever actually believed a word he’s said then perhaps I was wrong after all.”

Cinderella turned to leave the room, pausing at the door. An uncharacteristically soft expression on her face, she said, “It may not seem like it, Y/N, but I have your best interests at heart. Don’t allow yourself to be blindsided by his charm. There are bigger callings out there in the universe than love or lust. It is a fool’s game and if you try to play I can say with certainty that you will lose.”

"And do you answer those greater callings?“ you asked, collecting the tattered shreds of your dignity and rising to your feet. You stayed backed against the wall, the solid mass behind you helping you to keep your nerve. "That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? To fulfil some grand purpose? Not because you want to marry Loki.”

Much to your surprise, a smile graced the edges of Cinderella’s lips, almost - not quite, but almost - impressed. It was also somehow filled with a gentle fondness, a sharp contrast against the tension that oozed from the rest of her body. Stepping back into her room, leaning on the door to stop from being interrupted by any unwelcome intruders, she said, “I knew you were smarter than you looked. What do you know?”

You kept your lips firmly shut, realising too late that you should probably have kept quiet and not told the woman you were trying to expose as a fraud that you knew of her lies. However, as Cinderella stalked towards you once again, you decided silence would not be your friend here. Clutching your neck and grimacing as you felt the warm, sticky blood on your throat cover your fingers, you knew you would be in for a far worse injury if you didn’t answer her questions. “You aren’t of Vanaheim.”

"I knew you’d realised that when you asked about the corsets - that was hardly subtle, by the way. What else do you think you know about me?“ Cinderella asked, perching on the edge of her mattress and resting her hands in her lap. It was a interesting pose to strike, you thought, suited more to the diplomacy of the King’s council meetings than anything else.

But you suddenly realised that, in fact, this was not so dissimilar a situation. You were two opposing forces, trading information in the name of maintaining what was at best a non violent truce between the parties, neither of you were quite ready to kill the other until you had what you needed. Civility to the end. If that wasn’t universal politics, you weren’t sure what was.

Taking a bit of a punt, you said, "You’re a spy.”

"Well, that depends on your definition of spying. Yes, I am keeping an eye on the political manoeuvring of the court but my purpose here isn’t to steal Odin’s super secret war plans or something equally mundane.“ Cinderella ran her eyes over you, eyes lingering on the way you were trying not to fiddle with your hands, and hardly bothered to hide the smirk on her face. She leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees, and said, "That’s all you’ve got, isn’t it?”

Biting down on your bottom lip, scared to allow your gaze to wander or even to blink for fear that she’d whip out her blade and attack, you wrapped your hand around the handle of your own knife. Feeling the cool metal dagger against your skin instantly released some of the tension stored in your muscles.

Cinderella seemed to notice that change too, although it only made her roll her eyes. Waving her arms clearly in the air to prove she had no weapon to hand, she said, “Step away from this before you or someone you truly love gets hurt, Y/N. The house of Odin is unstable and doomed to fall. If you truly are as intelligent as I think you might be, get away from it all because associating with them will end up costing your life.”

"Is that a threat?“

A pause, then, "Consider it more of a friendly warning. It’s the only one you’re likely to get.”


	9. Chapter 9

"Y/N, tell me what happened.“

"Nothing happened,” you said, grabbing the scarf from Loki’s hand and wrapping it back around your neck to cover up the wounds. Whilst you knew you should have done, you’d avoided going to see the healers after your disagreement with Cinderella last night. So, fearing that you’d have to explain the origin of the wounds, you’d tried to clean them yourself and were now left with a full set of dark bruises - quite obviously in the shape of handprint - across your skin. And you were still no nearer to coming up with an excuse to explain their origins.

"Let me,“ Loki sighed, bashing your shaking hands aside and carefully undoing then retying the scarf into a beautifully complex knot for you himself. "How does that feel? It’s not too tight?”

"It’s fine. Thank you, Loki.“

"Come here,” the prince whispered, sensing that you were on the verge of tears. For once, you could no longer hold your emotions back - you didn’t want to, either - and Loki was suddenly wrapping his arms around your shoulders, capturing you in a tight embrace. Rubbing you gently on the back, he simply held you close, protecting you from whatever was hurting you in the only way he knew how. “Oh, my love. It’s going to be alright.”

When you were no longer trembling, Loki stepped back and placed a kiss on the back of both of your hands. Not letting go even when your arms dropped to your sides, he gently stroked circles on the inside of your wrists with his thumbs, the slow, gentle movement helping to keep you calm.

"I’m fine,“ you whispered, although whether you were trying to convince yourself or Loki you weren’t entirely sure. "It’s all fine.”

"You don’t need to lie to me, Y/N. If you aren’t okay, you’d don’t need to pretend that you are. Please, darling, tell me who did this to you.“

You shook your head, biting down on your bottom lip so hard that you drew blood. The sharp metallic taste filled your mouth, making you feel more than a little sick. All you could think of was Cinderella’s threats about hurting someone you loved. "I can’t tell you that. I’m sorry. I just can’t. I… Loki, I must go and tend to Cinderella.”

When you didn’t move, not even trying to pull your wrists free or make the smallest motion to show an intent of leaving, Loki asked, “Did she do this to you?”

"It’s fine. I’ll see you later, Loki.“

"Y/N…”

As if nothing were wrong at all, you held you head high and walked off around the corridor, pretending that everything really was fine. Needing a little more time to convince yourself of that, you took a detour on your way to Cinderella’s room towards a dead end corridor you knew was always empty. You sat down with your back against the wall, legs crossed, and closed your eyes.

It wasn’t long until your peace was interrupted but thankfully it was by a welcome face rather than someone sent by Cinderella to find where you’d run off to.

“What has you so down, my friend?” Thor asked, leaning down and thumping you on the shoulder like always. You winced as he accidentally hit the spot that Cinderella had bruised, amazed that someone as slight as her had such an intensely strong grip. Interpreting your silence as an answer in itself, Thor dropped to the ground like a tonne of bricks and made himself comfortable at your side on the floor. “Lady Cinderella, I presume?”

"I couldn’t say.“

"I see. Well,” Thor said, rubbing his chin in a way that you supposed was meant to make him appear thoughtful and distracted. Keeping his tone as light as possible in case anyone should unexpectedly wander past, he said, “I heard that there is a party of dignitaries from the merchant sector visiting this week. If you could possibly bear to tear yourself away from the good lady Cinderella for a few days, I am sure that an extra pair of hands would not go amiss in that wing of the palace. I’m sure I could even arrange for additional pay to cover the inconvenience of such short notice.”

You genuinely appreciated the thoughtfulness of his offer to get you away from Cinderella, you really did, but at the same time you feared that it would only make her more hostile. There was no way that she would respond well to you running away or showing weakness. No. You were certain that that would only spur her back into her horrid ways. At least at the moment she regarded you with a wide birth and an almost reluctant respect, uncertain exactly how much you knew. But if you fled or made it obvious that you did, in fact, know nothing then there would be no reason for her to hold back.

Shaking your head, reaching over and squeezing his ridiculously well toned biceps. Trying to keep your tone light, but your underlying uncertainty coming through clearly, you said, “I must sincerely thank you for such a generous offer but I have no choice but to refuse.”

"Do not apologise, my friend. Come,“ Thor said, jumping to his feet and hauling you up with him. You were grateful for his assistance since without his help you would have certainly struggled to stand, the tight corset still causing you an enormous amount of grief. Despite Cinderella’s "offer” to have the corset loosened, nothing had come of it and you were stuck with the tight bind.

Once again seeming to forget that you weren’t a woman of any notable status, Thor held out his arm for you to take and proudly paraded you around the palace hallways back towards his room, where the Warriors Three and Lady Sif were waiting. As you rounded the corner, though, you suddenly jumped back and shoved Thor behind the nearest pillar.

He looked at you questioningly - understandably considering your rash actions - but stayed silent when you held a finger to your lips and pointed to Cinderella. She practically floated down the hallway, the long skirt of her dress billowing behind her as she moved.

Both you and Thor held your breath as she passed by, stiffening when she came to a abrupt halt a few feet away. You initially feared that she’d seen you but soon realised that that wasn’t why she’d stopped. Running her hands over a seemingly average wall panel, Cinderella rested her hands about half way up the wall before peering up and down the corridor to check she was alone. Convinced no one else was around she pressed against the wall, opening up a secret doorway.

The moment that the door shut behind her, you said to Thor, “That would explain how she’s getting in and out of the gardens alone without attracting attention.”

"Did you know it was there?“ he asked, clearly learning of its existence for the first time.

"Not this one, no, but there are hundreds of secret doors around the palace. I should have guessed that she was using the servants’ tunnels to get around unseen.”

"Do you think she learnt about it from someone in the household?“

"I’m not sure. I didn’t know it was here but it is a bit of a maze behind the walls. Someone might have accidentally come across it if it’s intersected by a separate corridor but I’m pretty sure there’s only one passageway actively in use on this side of the palace. Since all the royal bed chambers are over here, the tunnels are quite strictly monitored.”

Thor mumbled something of an acknowledgement but was so deep in his own thoughts that you wondered if he’d actually heard a word you’d said. A few seconds later, he met your gaze and said in a low voice, “I shall go and relay this new development to the others. I would be grateful if you went up to the southward tower and kept an eye on Cinderella’s movements in the garden.”

"You don’t want to follow her through the passage?“

"We can’t risk her learning that we know of her duplicity. For now, we must maintain an air of ignorance lest she find out about us. It would most likely drive her to act and we cannot afford for that to happen until we know what to prepare for.”

You nodded rigidly and tried to smile, failing miserably.

After all the effort that Thor and the Warriors were putting in to prove that Cinderella’s presence in the palace was for more than just to marry Loki - a thought that still made your gut wrench - you feared that you had already ruined everything. Despite being told otherwise, warned of the dangers of acting prematurely, you had indeed engaged Cinderella yesterday. Whilst you’d learnt nothing new from your discussion, other than the fact that she was willing to hurt your family just to shut you up, she now knew for sure that you were on to her.

Mistaking your stiffness for general apprehension rather than guilt, Thor gave you one of his most dazzling smiles and said, “Try not to worry, my friend. There is still plenty of time to gather the proof we need to take this to my father. Now, you’d best go before she manages to slip away. Please be safe, Y/N.”

"I’ll try. See you later, Thor.“

Waiting until you heard the door to Thor’s chambers slam shut, you began fumbling around the edge of the panel to try and find the pressure point for the secret door. Curiosity was such a dreadful thing.

You felt the door give at the same time a pair of guards came marching around the corner. With your back to the wall, praying that they wouldn’t see the tiny gap where it hung away from the rest of the way, you bowed your head to them in desperate hope that they’d ignore you and keep walking.

Of course, luck was rarely ever on your side nowadays and they stopped directly in front of you. You were expecting them to start shouting at you, threatening you with a reprimand for aimlessly wandering the palace, but instead they both flashed you their best smiles. It took you a shamefully long to realise why.

Dressed as you were, falling out of the corset from Hel and barely covered by the finest silks that the palace had to offer, you looked nothing like a servant. You were, in their eyes, just another noble woman that needed saving from her terrible sense of direction. Judging by the heat of their gazes, they appeared to be more than happy to help you find your way back to your room and then some.

"Good day, gentlemen,” you breathed with a dismissive confidence that seemed to convince them of your status. They each gave you a brief nod, not bothering to hide the way their eyes lingered on your chest, before continuing down the hallway without another word.

Wasting no more time, not sure that your fragile nerves would survive another interruption, you slipped through the secret door and stumbled through the dark until you finally came across another exit at the end. You’d barely made it around the first hedge in the garden before setting eyes on Cinderella. You were almost grateful that you’d spent years crawling round the secret passageways as otherwise you’d never have been able to catch up with her so quickly.

Sticking to the shadows, you made sure to keep a fair distance between you and Cinderella as you tailed her around the gardens. She followed such a twisting path that you began to wonder if the princess to be actually knew that she was being followed and was simply attempting to lose you. When you were about ready to just give up and go back to the palace, Cinderella suddenly took a sharp turn and slipped through a gigantic hedge.

You were half in and half out of the shrubbery when you heard her voice, frozen in fear that a single movement would alert her to your presence. Holding your breath, you strained to listen to what she was saying, trying to work out exactly who she was talking to while you were at it.

"We have to act soon, Brynjar,“ she hissed. "If we keep waiting around then we risk the chance that Y/N may actually stumble across tangible proof.” 

"Y/N? Is that one of the nobles?“

"The maid.”

Brynjar, whoever he was, let out a harsh laugh. The horrid sound mostly covering your shuffling, you twisted enough to get a line of sight of the two of them. Brynjar was a tall, well built man, clearly muscled even beneath the royal guard’s armour. Something about the uniform was wrong, though; the metal breastplate was dull and scratched, in a terrible state compared to what was required uniform around the palace. It didn’t quite seem to hang right on his frame, either.

His helmet covered most of his face, so you couldn’t see many of his features but it was clear he wasn’t impressed. “You’re actually worried about a maid? Cindy, just kill the wench and be done with it. She’s worthless and none of the court will even notice she’s gone.”

"It’s not that simple, brother. She’s involved with the prince.“

"Then she deserves whatever disaster may or may not befall her.”

Cinderella opened her mouth to argue back but Brynjar shut her up before a single word could pass her lips. You were certainly surprised to hear her to try and defend your life but supposed that it was more a desire to contradict the man than out of any actual loyalty towards you. “Listen to me, brother. Y/N is a danger to the plan. Either move up the date of the attack or help me find a way to get rid of her without upsetting Loki. She has family in…”

"Do not take that tone with me, sister. If you had been more careful then the servant would never have noticed anything amiss. Just do what you are told and keep the court distracted until the time is right for us to act. Keep stuff yourself stupid until you can no longer fit in these ridiculous gowns and find a way to shut the girl up. And if the prince has an issue, do what you always do and use your body to make him forget. That is why you are here, after all. To keep him compliant. Are you capable of managing that?“

"Yes, Brynjar. Of course,” Cinderella said, bowing her head in the most submissive gesture you’d ever seen her perform. Combined with her brother’s comments, you couldn’t help but feel a little sympathy for her despite all the things she’d done to you.

Just before you did something stupid like jump out of the shelter of the bushes to actually defend Cinderella, you heard the metal clanking of approaching boots. Praying that the new soldier didn’t spot you hiding nearby, you watched as the dynamic between the siblings suddenly changed. Cinderella straightened up, holding her chest high as she projected that air of overcompensated confidence. Brynjar, on the other hand, stepped back and became the clearly subservient party of the pair.

You’d known the moment you laid eyes on the new guard that he was in on the sibling’s plan. You couldn’t say for sure what convinced you but your suspicions were confirmed when simply nodded to Cinderella instead of bowing and shook hands with Brynjar, recognising him as the one in charge. The men stepped aside and began muttering to one another, too far away from your bush to hear what they were saying.

While they spoke Cinderella paced back and forth around the small space, at least until Brynjar spun around and shouted for her to stand still or risk drawing attention to their meeting. Stiff as a statue after that, she waited in the corner, leaning against the thick hedges and looking as if she wanted them to swallow her up.

Wrapping up their business, the imitation guards shook hands once again and Brynjar turned to leave. He caught Cinderella by the arm, his grip so tight that it visibly stopped the blood flow to her hand, and hissed, “You understand what we need you to do, Cindy?”

"Yes, brother. I understand perfectly,“ she said, tearing her arm free from his grasp. He clearly hadn’t been expecting such an act of defiance judging by the way his expression darkened but, rather than lash out, just scowled and stormed away. Once she was sure he was gone, Cinderella turned to the other guard and smiled sweetly, "Don’t worry about Brynjar. He just has a little temper now and then. I promise that he’s reliable.”

"I don’t care about your brother,“ the guard said, stepping towards Cinderella. The atmosphere in the secluded area suddenly darkened and the air felt cold and tingly, like the calm before a storm. There was such an intense power around him, it was almost tangible. "You hurt her.”

"I don’t… I mean, I didn’t…“ Cinderella stuttered, backing even further in to the bushes. When she couldn’t sink any further, she stumbled and tried to get away from the man but tripped over her heels. She didn’t hit the ground, though; the soldier caught her awkwardly by her arm, eliciting a quiet scream as a few of the ligaments in her shoulder tore.

Literally shaking in fear as the man tugged her back to her feet, Cinderella pleaded, "It wasn’t serious! Just a few scratches to scare her and stop her from prying!”

"If you lay another finger on her…“

"You’ll what?” she hissed, cradling her elbow to try and dull some of the pain in her shoulder. If the tears in her eyes were anything to go by, you’d have said that it wasn’t helping. However, the pain seemed to be focusing her fear and twisting it into a deep anger directed at the soldier.

With a surprising strength, Cinderella shoved him backwards and yelled, “You can’t hurt me! You swore no harm would come to me in return for your own safety above everyone else’s! She was not part of the deal. You know what Brynjar has planned. Without me around to stop him, when the time comes, he will kill you too.”

"You dare threaten me?“ the guard asked, a blade suddenly in his hand. You blinked a few times, not sure how he’d managed to move so quickly and draw it without either you or Cinderella seeing the movement. As he stepped closer, you couldn’t help but stare at the way the handle of the blade shone in the late afternoon light.

Wracking your brain, you tried to work out where you’d seen such a blade before - after all, it certainly wasn’t the normal kind used by the palace guards. Maybe, you thought, if you could place it, you’d have a clue as to where these people were actually from and what their end goal might be. So fixated on the handle of the blade were you that you didn’t notice the air growing colder as he prowled nearer, trapping Cinderella in the corner.

A moment later, you realised why you recognised the blade - or more accurately the dagger - and why the air was cold but before you could comprehend the realisation there was a blindingly bright green flash. When your eyes readjusted you saw that the illusion of the guard was gone and in his place, standing menacingly over Cinderella with his sharp blade against her neck, was Loki.


	10. Chapter 10

"You don’t care about her,“ Cinderella hissed, barely concerned that Loki had a knife on her throat. She was acting as if this were something she experienced all the time. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but wince as you watched him pressed it harder against her skin, genuinely scared that Loki’s control would snap and kill her where she stood.

"Do not speak of things you know nothing about. I care for Y/N immensely.”

Taking advantage of Loki’s momentary lapse of concentration, Cinderella whipped her own blade from beneath her skirt and had the tip against his rib cage before he could do anything to stop her. They stood completely still, gazes locked in anger, knowing that the slightest movement now would be capable of killing them both.

Since Cinderella rather wanted to avoid a slashed throat and Loki certainly preferred not to be stabbed in the heart, they silently came to a truce and stepped apart. Each gripped the handle of their weapon as if their life depended on it - which it sort of did - but neither made another move towards the other.

Brushing sections of the shrubbery from the folds of her skirt, Cinderella said in far too friendly a tone for the current situation, “Do her a favour, Loki. Ask yourself how much you really care for Y/N and then why you’re stringing her along.”

"If you’re trying to make a point, please, do get on with it.“

"We both know that Y/N deserves someone far better than you. You’ve managed to delude yourself into thinking that one day you might be able to run away together or maybe even be accepted here in the palace. But she’s still a servant, Loki. No matter how much I dress her up - you’re welcome for that, by the way - she will always be below you.”

"Cinderella…“ Loki practically growled, warning her to get to her point sooner rather than later.

"I’m just saying that you’re wasting her time. You have been for months. I’m curious, though,” she said, stretching out across a small stone bench and tilting her head to the side in a way you supposed was meant to be enticing. “The night of the ball…”

"Don’t.“

"Oh, come on. It’s just us here. Would you have really introduced her to Odin? Told him that she was the one you chose to marry? Go on; just indulge me. If things had been different, if I hadn’t interrupted the fairytale and all of this,” she said, waving her arms vaguely in the air and gesturing between them. “Hadn’t happened, would you truly have declared her the one you intended to marry?”

His silence said far more than any words ever could.

Cinderella raised an eyebrow then, instead of accepting her victory over the prince, kept pushing. “Can you see it now? By playing this game, pretending that you could ever be together, you are only going to break Y/N’s fragile little heart. You should be grateful to me, really. If you hadn’t followed me to the gardens that night, and had instead gathered the courage to actually do something for once, you would have made a fool of yourself and Y/N by asking Odin for his blessings. Just think how big a mess that would have made.”

"This conversation is done,“ Loki said, a definite air of finality about it. "And if you lay another hand on Y/N…”

"You know that there’s nothing you can do to me. Brynjar will not hesitate to treat you the same fate as the others if so much a hair on my head comes to harm. Face it, Loki. You aren’t in control here; we are.“ Rising to her feet, Cinderella flung her beautiful golden locks over her shoulder and smiled - looking not unlike a predator that had finally cornered their prey. She took a few steps towards him and traced the line of his jaw with her finger, pushing him to meet her gaze.

Leaning in to his space, closing the gap until they were literally cheek to cheek, you had to strain your ears to hear what she was saying. "You know, there are whispers as far out as the villages that you and I don’t spend enough time together. Brynjar told me that the illusion of our engagement is close to shattering and if we don’t do something to convince the kingdom of our affections then we put everything at risk.”

Cinderella laughed sharply when Loki pushed her away. “I’ll leave you to think about your options,” she said, brushing her fingers through her hair as she took leant back against a thick shrub a little too close to where you were hiding for your comfort. “But do bear in mind that if my brother begins to worry about your commitment to the plan that he will have no choice but to… eliminate any other distractions. In fact, I fear that that is the path he has already chosen to take. I look forward to seeing you at dinner, my prince.”

A few seconds later, the secluded area was filled by a bright green flash of light as Loki brought back the illusion of the guard and stormed after Cinderella. You held your breath as he passed the bush in which you were hiding, convinced that your heart would burst out of your chest when he paused right in front of you. However, thankfully, he didn’t seem to see you and carried on back towards the palace.

When you were sure that they were out of sight, you awkwardly clambered out of the safety of the shrubbery and sat down on the little stone bench to try and straighten out everything you’d just learnt. As you sifted through your thoughts, you knew you should have been focusing on trying to work out what this plan of their was but you couldn’t. All you could think about was Loki’s role in this.

Why was he helping Brynjar and Cinderella? What exactly had he agreed to do and what had he already done in order to secure his own safety? Had he meant what he’d said, or more accurately not said, about his feelings towards you?

You knew, whether you liked it or not, the only way to understand was to ask him directly.

Before you knew it you were standing at his door, hand raised to knock but unable to go through with it. Too scared to know the truth. Too scared to hear your terrible suspicions confirmed.

As you turned on your heels to flee, you realised that if you did nothing, if you didn’t take this opportunity to find out what was truly happening, then others in the palace would most likely suffer at the hands of Cinderella and Brynjar’s plan. You couldn’t let that happen in clear conscience so, throwing caution to the wind, you gently knocked on the large golden door and slowly pushed it open.

"I said I did not wish to be interrupted,“ came Loki’s angry voice as the door creaked open. You stepped inside anyway and when the prince saw your trembling frame he practically ran to your side. Gently gripping your forearms, he asked, "Y/N, my darling, are you alright?”

"Tell me what happened on the night of the ball. The truth.“

Swallowing deeply when your voice cracked, unable to bear the thought that he was the one causing you so much pain, Loki nodded and began, "I accompanied Cinderella out in to the gardens and we were… interrupted by Brynjar, her wretch of a brother. He was leading the party of rebels that attacked that night. In return for my life, I showed him and his men a secret entrance into the palace.”

"And the rest of their plan? What is your stake in that?“

"I don’t…”

"The truth, Loki,“ you said, your voice colder than a mid winter’s frost. "Please, don’t make me ask again.”

"Brynjar plans to ambush the next Grand Council meeting and take out the ruling parties of Asgard. With the attack on the palace and the unrest that they have been stirring in the outer villages and settlements, the court has reason to be concerned enough to call the Grand Council to devise a strategy to deal with the opposition. With the highest ranking nobles in one small space, taking them out would be easy enough with the right support. He has already gained the respect of many in the far reaches of the kingdom and has them believing that the court no longer cares for them. All I have done is enable him to move freely in and out of the palace walls.“

"You’re speaking about it as if it’s already done and you don’t care at all! Loki, they’re going to kill all those people and you’re okay with that? How could you help him do that? They’re your friends! Your family! Does your life really mean more than all of theirs? You desire the throne so much that you’d stand aside and let people you care for die?” Shoving him away, you shook your head in disgust. Unable to meet his eyes, almost ashamed that you’d thought Loki better than all of this, you asked, “And your duty to Cinderella?”

"I am simply supposed to keep her out of harm’s way. The court isn’t to know that she is related to Brynjar in any way. She and I were to take the crown and usher in a new age for the people of Asgard.“

It was so ridiculous a thought that you couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. "A new age? With Brynjar pulling all the strings from the shadows? Some fair and just kingdom that will be. Grow up, Loki. Odin may have his fault, his many faults, but he protects us. Without him, the realms would fall into chaos. Asgard needs Odin on the throne and you are foolish to think that you could do what he does.”

"You believe I’d make a poor king?“

"In this moment? Yes. You would make a pitiful ruler,” you answered frankly, if a little harshly. You couldn’t stop yourself, though. Not after what you’d learnt today. It was as if everything you knew about Loki had been turned on its head and the man before you was a mere shell of the person you loved. Thought you’d loved. “Anyone that is willing to kill to take power isn’t worthy of the title king.”

Loki’s entire stance hardened as he stared you down and you found yourself backing against the door in the wake of his imposing shadow. “I never intended this to happen, Y/N,” he said, slowly stepping towards you. “And I’ve done my utmost to keep you safe.”

"Why? Why would you protect me and not your family?“

"Because I lo..”

"No. Don’t you dare,“ you said, throwing your arm up between you. Your hand rested on his chest and for a moment you just held it still, mesmerised by the expansion of his chest with each ragged breath. Snapping yourself out of that, but keeping your arm up to maintain the distance between you, you said, "You don’t get to say that to me ever again. If you loved me, if you’d ever loved me, then you would never have followed Cinderella into the gardens that night. You’d have never agreed to be a part of all of this.”

"Y/N, the night of the ball, I was scared of what we had. Cinderella was only ever meant to be a distraction and when I saw you dancing with my brother…“

You couldn’t believe that he was trying to use jealousy as a defence for his actions, especially when you thought you’d made your feelings for him perfectly clear; even at the ball, you may never have said anything but there was no way he could have missed the way you’d felt. Dancing with Loki, he’d definitely felt that spark. But he’d chosen to run away from his feelings and into the arms of Cinderella of all people.

Shaking your head, you said, "We’re done, Loki. I can’t hear this anymore.”

You were surprised that Loki didn’t try to stop you from leaving but you weren’t going to hang around and wait for him to chase after you. Looking up and down the corridor to make sure no one else was around, you opened up one of the long forgotten servants’ doorway in the wall and slipped through. You had to be one of only a handful of people that knew of its existence and, knowing where it led, you were quite desperate to keep it that way. Following the twists and turns of the dark tunnels, you soon came across the one exit you needed.

"Thor?“ you whispered, stepping out into the prince’s room. "Thor, I need to talk to you.”

A moment later, the older prince appeared, a towel around his waist and water dripping down his bare chest. The smile on his face for seeing you again so soon immediately gave way to concern when he caught the way your hands were trembling. Grabbing your wrist and pulling you over to his bed so you could sit down, he asked, “Y/N, what are you doing here? Is everything alright? Did Cinderella see you?”

You shook your head, realising that you should be grateful that at least Cinderella was unaware of how much you now knew. “I followed her down to the gardens. I know you said not to but I couldn’t let the chance go to waste. I now wish I’d headed your words more carefully.”

Upon his insistence, you told Thor everything - even the details including Loki. It felt like the ultimate betrayal, tattling to his big brother, but you knew you had no choice. There was no way that you could just stand idly by and watch Loki let Brynjar destroy the court. When you reached the end of your explanation, you’d half hoped you would feel better for coming to Thor. Instead, though, that weight on your chest only seemed to be pressing down harder.

"What are we going to do, Thor? How could Loki do this?“

Thor pulled you into a tight hug, stroking your hair and resisting the urge to laugh as he pulled out a few twigs and leaves that had embedded themselves in your tangled mess. "Do not worry, my dear friend. This is not the first time that my brother has encouraged something like this. We’ll bring it to a stop before anything comes of his trouble. I shall send Hogun to the archives to search for record of Brynjar and Cinderella. If we can find out which of the outer villages he is from then we can try to deal with him before he and his army have the chance to attack the palace. Everything will be alright, trust me.”

"What about me? Do you expect me to just sit around and wait for something to happen?“

"Of course not, Y/N. We should go and alert my father of their plans so he may prepare the palace for the worst.”

"Do you actually think that he’ll believe my word? You may not have noticed, Thor, but I am really not Odin’s favourite person…“

The prince shook his head, sadly acknowledging the truth of your statement. He would never tell you but he had overheard his father discussing his not so flattering opinions of you to his advisors. He thought that if you weren’t kept under control that you could one day be a dangerous influence on the other palace servants. After all, at least in Odin’s opinion, you actually had far more freedom than half the nobles and also held a sway over Thor and Loki - something that the king was keen to avoid. The last thing he wanted was for his sons to become distracted by the issues of the majority.

Of course, Thor completely disagreed with his father’s less than complimentary assessments of you. He, unlike Odin, admired your strong will and inability to keep your nose out of other people’s business. It was that determination and resolve that he was hoping to rely on today; he thought that if anyone was going to be able to convince the court of Cinderella’s plans that it would be you.

"There is a meeting of the Lesser Council this afternoon. It is probably the best chance that we will have to get my father to listen.” Noticing the way that you were tugging on the torn scarf around your neck, Thor made his way towards his gigantic wardrobe and after some searching pulled out one of his trademark scarlet cloaks. You let out a gasp when he tore a strip of fabric from the bottom and handed it to you and said, “I’m afraid it’s not quite as subtle as your scarf but I fear my father may judge you should you turn up wearing something that has clearly been attacked by the bushes.”

Mumbling a quiet thanks as Thor left to go and get dressed, you fumbled with the knot that Loki had tied. In all the tugging to try and loosen it, you ended up reopening one of the wounds on your neck and had no choice but to call the prince back and ask for his help. He immediately obliged, perching down in front of you and making quick work of the knot.

"There you go,“ he said with a smile. It faltered upon seeing the bruises and wounds on your skin, his eyes hardening as he undoubtedly began planning how best to exact revenge on Cinderella for harming you so. Thor disappeared once again before reappearing with a damp cloth to clean the blood from your neck.

Once certain that the bleeding had stopped, not bothering to ask if you wanted to see a healer since your response to such a question was quite obvious, he took the red strip from your hands and loosely tied it around your throat, somehow managing to make the thick fabric look somewhat delicate.

"We should go now, if we are to make the meeting,” Thor said, offering you his hand to help you to your feet. The walk through the palace was silent, each of you preoccupied by the thoughts and fears of what may happen should Odin not believe you, but when the grand doors came into sight Thor stopped you and said, “We are doing the right thing, Y/N. I believe in you.”

"I’m ready,“ you nodded as Thor patted you heartily on the back. His confidence in you was a real boost, although you feared that it would make little difference. Following the prince into the grand chamber, swallowing deeply when you saw the entirety of council already seated and waiting, you stood behind Thor, avoiding Loki’s gaze entirely.

"Oh, so it’s you that has been filling my son’s head with paranoid delusions,” Odin said, leaning forward in his throne, his overwhelming presence in the hall threatening to crush you. “Say whatever it is that you have to say, child, then we may return to our actual business.”

You froze for a moment but were ushered on by Thor, who gently placed his hand on your back and guided you to the centre of the hall before taking his seat at the table by his father’s side. Holding your hands behind your back and keeping your eyes low, you mumbled, “My king, I…”

"Speak up!“

"I apologise, my king,” you said courtly, falling just short of actually hissing at him. Taking a deep breath, focusing on the way that the cool air flowed into and out of your lungs, you stood tall and said, “I have come to inform you of a plot against you and the Grand Council. Lady Cinderella and her brother are…”

The doors to the chamber suddenly flew open, an incredible feat when their immense size was taken in to account. You were greeted by what looked like an entire battalion of the royal guard, hands wrapped around the hilts of their swords as if they were expecting an enemy to jump out of the shadows at any second. One huge, burly soldier stepped forward, his armour clanking loudly as he moved, tailed closely by another clearly exhausted younger man.

"My lords,“ the younger guard said, bowing first to Odin and then to the princes. He as clearly breathing heavily under the heavy armour he wore - not quite the same as the palace guards’ but similar enough to know he was a loyal soldier - his legs practically shaking as he stood in the grand doorway. "I have been sent from Aumrauth; the garrison there has fallen to the rebel army. There were many casualties and those that survived are being held as hostages.”

He continued to reel of facts and figures about the attack but they went straight over your head. Looking around the chamber, the council’s mouths were moving but you couldn’t focus on what was being said. Your heart beat thumping in your ears, you didn’t realise your legs had given way until the princely brothers jumped from their chairs and ran to your side.

Loki took your hand in his, helping to support you against a nearby column while one of the kinder nobles sent for a healer. Pushing your hair aside and cupping your face, he whispered, “Are you alright, my love? Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

"Aumrauth…“ you breathed, your voice remarkably steady compared to how much you were trembling. All of your negative feelings towards Loki vanished, no longer seeming important in lieu of this most dreadful news. Burying your face in his chest, you took a moment to simply focus on his arms around your shoulder before gathering enough strength to say, "Loki… Inga and her children live in Aumrauth.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The guards are a over entitled, foul minded pricks. Nothing happens because the reader shuts that down quickly but I just figured I'd give you the warning anyway.

"I don’t care what Odin said,“ you growled, pushing past the prince. "I’m going.”

You stormed over to your wardrobe and pulled a few of your old dresses from the hangers, throwing them on to your bed. The wardrobe hadn’t originally been yours, it was supposed to be shared with the other three women that you roomed with at the palace, however since you were the only one with more than two outfits the others had of late just let you take sole custody. It made you feel bad, after all you were all servants and should be sticking together, but you had larger problems on your mind than the jealousy of others.

As you shovelled the dresses into a bag you looked up at Loki, resting awkwardly against the door as he tried to work out how best to proceed. After the news of the attack on Aumrauth had reached the council, Odin had announced in no uncertain terms that he would not risk the lives of the palace guard on the possibility that a few villagers may still be alive. Loki knew that you weren’t going to accept that, hence why he’d followed you back to your room to make sure you wouldn’t do something stupid - like you were about to do now.

"You can’t just ride out to Aumrauth on your own, Y/N.“

"Short of keeping me locked up in the dungeons there is nothing you can do to stop me, Loki.”

Bending down to grab your knife from under your bed, you let out a groan of anguish as the bones of your corset dug into your ribs. Using the blade you cut open the front of your bodice and threw it across the room, not even caring when it knocked over one of the flower vases on your roommate’s bedside drawer. You dropped the dagger onto your bag and began fumbling with the laces on the back of your corset but your fingers were shaking too much to manage anything.

"Take a breath. You need to calm down before you hurt yourself,“ Loki whispered in to your ear, suddenly standing right behind you. His proximity made you stiffen but you relaxed when you felt his hands resting gently over yours. It was too familiar a touch to pull away from and, even with your feelings towards him as confused as they currently were, you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to Loki. You drew strength from him, using it to keep yourself level in a situation where anything else might - would - get you killed.

His chin barely resting on your shoulder, nose turned towards your neck to just breathe in your familiar scent, but so careful not to touch you in case you pushed him away again, Loki said, "Let me help you.”

After a moment of hesitation you nodded and let your arms fall to your side. Loki’s deft fingers made quick work of the mess of laces. Even though you couldn’t see his face, you just knew that he smiled at the noise you made when you could breathe properly once more. There really was nothing like the relief of stepping out of that godforsaken thing.

You were grateful to see that Loki had turned his back to allow you to change in private and hastily threw an old tattered dress over your undergarments. You caught sight of yourself in your beige rags in the mirror and for a moment were transported back to when you’d been working in the kitchens. How much simpler life had been then.

Interrupting the silence that had fallen over the room as you packed up your remaining supplies - everything short of food, but you were planning to go via the kitchen on your way to the stables - Loki said out of the blue, “I’m coming with you.”

"No, you aren’t.“

"Yes, I am,” he said adamantly. “What do you think will happen when you reach Aumrauth? Brynjar and his men will kill you on sight. Whilst you are clearly far more talented in the art of sneaking around than I gave you credit for, when they realise that you have come from the palace then they will not hesitate.”

"I hadn’t… I didn’t think of that,“ you said honestly, turning to face him and meeting his eyes for the first real time all evening.

"That’s why you need me. I can get you into the village so you can find Inga.” At the mere mention of your sister’s name, tears filled your eyes as all the horrible possibilities that may have fallen on to her ran through your mind. Loki immediately stepped forward and put a comforting hand on your forearm. Squeezing gently, he said, “I’m sure that your family are alright, Y/N.”

Biting down on your bottom lip, you nodded even though you couldn’t make yourself believe his words. Whilst you’d been taught that there was always a place for hope, you feared that holding on to it in a situation like this could only ever lead to heartbreak. “We should go,” you said, swallowing deeply. “I know the routine of the guards on the stables. They take a break at the same time every night. If we don’t want to be caught leaving, we have to move now.”

"I shall meet you down there.“

"Where are you going?”

"I must speak to my brother and make sure that he refrains from doing anything stupid.“ Cupping your face with his hand, Loki either didn’t notice the way that you automatically leant into his touch or just decided not to mention it. In the same way, you said nothing when his thumb gently stroked the corner of your mouth, content despite yourself to simply take comfort from the familiar touch. "I promise I will not be long.”

Without another word, you each departed ways; Loki out through the main door and you through one of the servant’s passages hidden in the wall. It lead directly down to the kitchen and on your way you passed a few familiar faces. None of them were paying enough attention to realise it was you, though. Not with your hair tied back and no longer wearing one Cinderella’s outlandish dresses, in which they’d become accustomed to seeing you wear.

On your way through the kitchen, you snagged as much food as you could fit into your bag. It was mostly just slightly stale bread rolls and off cuts of meat but you weren’t willing to risk taking anything else. Especially not when the beast of a head cook wandered in, grumbling like always about how she never got the recognition she deserved for organising such incredible feasts.

Fearful that staying any longer would get you caught, you snuck out through the back door and made your way to the stables. However, as you rounded the corner and heard the hearty laughs of the guards, you knew that you were in trouble.

Too late, one of them spotted you and called you over. “What are you doing down here, girl?”

"I’m just here to tend to my lady Cinderella’s horse, sir.“

"Oh, so you’re the wench that they dragged out the kitchen to look after her?” he asked, stepping away from the stable door to get a better look at you. He gripped you by the chin and tilted your head to either side, nodding to himself. When he stepped back, he took one look at your tattered dress and said, “I thought that she dressing you up like one of those rich courtesans? Doing favours for the boys and all that. Heard that you’re quite a sight to behold.”

"Thank you, sir,“ you said quietly, keeping your gaze firmly on the ground so he wouldn’t see the hatred in your eyes. Of course you’d known that the entire household knew about the outfits that Cinderella put you in but you hadn’t been aware of the fact that there were rumours circulating about what else the princess to be had had you supposedly doing.

No wonder some of the other serving girls looked upon you with disgust when they passed you in the corridors now. If you had heard the same thing about another then you would probably have judged her the same way too.

Clasping your hands behind your back to stop yourself from hitting the man when he ran his fingers down the length of your arm, you said stiffly, "The lady Cinderella prefers me not to wear those gowns whilst mucking out the horses. After all, it would be such a waste to have them ruined by a pile of shit. Now, if you’d excuse me, sir, I really do need to be getting on with my duties.”

You ripped your arm out of his grip and stood up straight, almost daring him to try and stop you. He merely scowled as you walked past. For almost ten minutes you waited for Loki to appear, and as the time passed you wondered more and more whether he was actually going to show up. The guards had just left their post and if you didn’t move soon then you would lose your chance.

Deciding that you couldn’t wait for Loki even though you wanted to, you mounted Loki’s horse - knowing the he certainly wouldn’t report it missing - and followed one of the back trails out of the palace grounds. You were surprised by how much Loki’s horse seemed to like you; Gyllir was well known in the household for his awful temper around strangers.

As you approached the forest, you felt the horse come to a stop and no matter what you did to try and get him moving again he refused to move. Jumping off the saddle, you stroked the top of his head as he began to get restless. In your calmest voice you said, “Come on, boy. We really don’t have time for you to be stubborn today… What has gotten in to you?”

"Be still, my friend,“ Loki said, appearing out of seemingly nowhere to comfort his steed. Stroking his body, the prince peered around Gyllir’s head and asked, "You only brought one horse? My horse?”

"I thought you’d decided not to come,“ you answered honestly. "I figured you wouldn’t be angry that I’d taken Gyllir. He likes me, you know.”

"So I can see,“ Loki said, hiding his smile behind Gyllir’s long face. "He always had good taste. I suppose this means that we’ll be sharing the saddle, unless you think that you could keep up on foot.”

"Why am I the one that has to walk?“

"He’s my horse.” Loki swung up on to his back and reached down to offer you a hand. With his eyebrows arched, the prince asked, “You really would prefer to walk than ride with me, wouldn’t you?”

"We haven’t the time for what I want,“ you sighed, taking his hand and letting him pull you up on to the saddle. It was a squeeze to fit you both on, and hardly comfortable, but to say that you hated the feeling of Loki’s body against yours would be a lie and you both knew that. Pointing into the distance, you said, "Aumrauth is that way.”

You could almost hear him rolling his eyes as you set off in that direction. Mumbling under his breath, loud enough for you to hear on purpose, he said, “I am aware of that, my dear. Surprising as it may seem, I do happen to know my way around the kingdom”

When night fell and it became clear the Gyllir could go no further without a well earned rest, you made stop for the night in a small clearing. It was peaceful. The constant gurgle of the stream hid the noise of insects scuttling around in the fallen leaves and stopped you from jumping at every tiny sound. Throughout the ride, the birds had never stopped tweeting to one another but now that darkness had fallen the forest was eerily quiet in comparison.

You set up a small fire in the centre of the clearing and sat beside it in silence for a long while. Loki had disappeared to freshen up in the stream, at least that was what you assumed. Alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but imagine what terrors Inga and her children were facing. Assuming that they were still alive at all…

"You really must learn to quiet your mind,“ Loki said, taking a seat by your side. He sat far enough away that you weren’t touching but close enough to let you know that he really would have preferred otherwise. "I could practically hear you worrying from all the way over there.”

"I know that it may be a concept that you struggle to understand, Loki, but I am actually concerned for my family’s wellbeing. Unlike you, I really do care if they live or die. I wouldn’t be doing this… wouldn’t be disobeying the king’s direct orders to not interfere, if I didn’t.“ Feeling him stiffen beside you, the firelight sharpening the already intense lines of worry on his face, you immediately regretted your outburst. You reached over to place a hand on his knee and said, "I’m sorry. That was out of line. Especially since you are risking your father’s wrath for them too.”

"No, after what I’ve done you are within your rights to believe the worst of me.“

"I believe in the best parts of you, Loki. I saw them the very first time we met and every day since then. That’s why I was disappointed that you were capable of doing something like this. I thought that you were better than this.”

"Oh, you sound just like my mother,“ Loki groaned, running a hand through his hair. Imitating Frigga’s voice with a surprising accuracy, he said, "I’m not angry, I’m just disappointed. Gods, I hated that phrase as a child. I think it’s even worse now coming from you.”

Hiding your laugh behind a cough, you stared into the fire, mesmerised by the way that it moved in the wind. The embers floating in the air, you could almost convince yourself that there were tiny imps dancing in the flames, putting on a private show just for you. Eventually you looked back to Loki and said, “Thank you for doing this for me. Coming to Aumrauth.”

"You don’t need to thank me, Y/N. You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.“

You tried to smile but when it ended up looking more like a grimace Loki wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pull you up against his side. Placing a kiss on the top of your head, he said, "Inga and her children are going to be fine. We aren’t far now and when we arrive you’ll see them again. I promise.”

As hollow as his promises were, you found yourself taking great comfort in them. You couldn’t bear to think of the alternatives any longer so simply burying your head in Loki’s shoulder and let him whisper gentle reassurances to you until you fell asleep in his arms.

***

"You know, it seems an eternity since I last heard you sing.“

You turned around to see Loki perched up against the base of a tree, watching you with a fond expression on his face. You hadn’t seen him this relaxed in months, you realised. Not since before the ball had been announced all that time ago. The way he sat now, with his legs half bent, resting comfortably as the morning light softened his face, reminded you of how he used to be in the kitchens. Hiding from the trials of everyday life and just savouring those brief moments of respite with you.

"I thought you considered my singing terrible? In fact, I distinctly remember you telling me one time to stop murdering the glorious songs of our forefathers.”

"Oh, I still believe your singing to be terrible,“ Loki said, the corners of his mouth turning up in a smirk. "But you appear to have brought me breakfast so I decided one compliment couldn’t hurt.”

"This isn’t for you,“ you said, tearing a chunk off of the bread roll in your hand. From your bag you pulled out a few scraps of leftover game and met his smirk in kind. "This is my breakfast.”

"You did bring enough food for us both, did you not? Or do you expect me to go foraging like a… Like a common forest dweller?“

You shrugged and simply took another bite of your bread roll. Unable to hold back your laughter at the distraught look on his face, you reached into your bag and threw Loki a roll of his own along with a pouch of edible plants and flowers that you’d found earlier that morning. "Of course I did, Loki. Now stop sulking and eat your bread.”

"It’s mouldy…“ he pointed out, as if you didn’t already know that. He picked at the green sections with his nails and threw them as far away as he could, much to the pleasure of the nearby birds who seemed willing to eat just about anything. "Couldn’t you have stolen something a little more fresh?”

"I’ll have it back if you’re going to be fussy like that.“

"No,” Loki said quickly. He pulled it to his chest when you reached out to grab it and failed to hide the grimace when he took a bite. Noticing the way that you ignored the mouldy spots on your roll, he asked, “You eat this all the time?”

"You know, Loki, some of us don’t have the luxury of being able to afford fresh food every day.“ The moment that you sat down beside him, Loki slid an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. His shoulder far more comfy than the tree, you relaxed into his embrace and couldn’t help but imagine a life without all the complications where you could sit like this every day. No pressures of the court. No worries about life or death. Just enjoying the company of the one you loved.

Sometime later, Loki asked, "Do you?”

"I beg your pardon?“

"Do you have enough money to afford fresh food?”

"Oh! No, I don’t. I send the majority of my wages to my sister and her children because they need the money more than I. Even with Inga’s business growing - thank you for introducing her to those nobles, by the way. I don’t think I ever got around to thanking you for that - she doesn’t earn enough to keep her children properly fed. So I help in every way I can.“

"I didn’t know that.”

"It’s alright.“ Sensing his disbelief, you repeated, "Honestly, it’s alright. I get fair meals from the kitchen like every other servant in the palace and it’s enough to keep me strong enough to work. Ask any girl in the household and they will all say same. Of late, though, I have taken to stealing fruits from Cinderella’s meals when she doesn’t finish them so that’s something, I suppose. Actually, don’t tell anyone that, please. I could get into quite a lot of trouble for that.”

"Your secrets are safe with me, Y/N. How is your neck today?“

Just like that, your good mood shattered as you were once again faced with the terrible reality of life. Pushing yourself up from the tree and shuffling away from Loki’s side, you pulled the fabric from around your throat and lowered your eyes. Obviously you couldn’t see the marks but knew even before you saw Loki’s expression that they looked bad today. Every time you swallowed it pulled on the wounds and even the gentlest breeze seemed to feel like a slap against the bruises on your skin.

Taking your silence as an answer of its own, Loki leant forward and placed a gentle kiss on to every mark. Each time that his soft lips touched your skin you felt a strange tingling sensation and then nothing. No more pain. Trailing his kisses back up your neck and along your jaw line, Loki said, "I’m sorry that I can’t make the marks go away but I can stop them from hurting.”

"Thank you,“ you breathed, lacing your fingers through his silky, dark hair. You pulled his head back with a firm but gentle force, meeting his lips with yours. Somehow suddenly in his lap, you closed your eyes when he brought your foreheads together, breathing in time to one another. "Loki, I…”

"Don’t. Just let me have this moment. Please.“

"I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

Loki brushed his lips against yours once more, holding your face in your hands as tightly as he dared. It was almost like he were scared of you disappearing, gone from his grasp forever. “You trust me, don’t you?” he asked, voice wavering despite his best attempts to keep it level. “Please, Y/N. I need to hear you say it.”

"Loki, you’re scaring me… What’s going on?“

"I won’t let them hurt you, alright? I promise. Please, just say you trust me.”

"I don’t understand. What’s this about, Loki?“

"Y/N, please”

Swallowing deeply, you nodded and whispered, “I trust you. Of course I trust you. Now can you tell me what’s going on.”

Before Loki could explain what was happening, a soldier jumped out of a nearby bush, a loaded bow pointed directly at you. Whipping your head around in every direction, you realised that you were surrounded. Weapons of every kind were trained on you and Loki, although when you turned your gaze back to the prince he was no longer himself.

Wearing his illusion of the royal guard, he shoved you off his lap and positioned you on your knees on the ground. Your first instinct was to fight but Loki gripped your shoulder tightly and must have caught a pressure point because you were unable to move. Bowing your head, you stayed silent, realising that trying to talk your way out of this would not end well.

Especially not when the leader of the group stepped into the clearing.

"Brynjar,“ Loki said. "I come bearing gifts.”

"Is this the troublesome maid I’ve heard so much about? Why did you bring her to me?“

"She was drawing attention too much attention to herself in the palace and would have interfered with the plan.”

"Cindy said as much but that doesn’t answer my question. Why did you bring her to me? From what I heard you were rather fond of her.“

Loki let out a harsh laugh and even though you knew - you hoped - that this was all part of a great deception the sound still felt like a dagger in your chest. "Oh, please. She was just a distraction. Cinderella… Well, she convinced me to see things a different way. You had a problem and I dealt with it.”

"At least my sister is good for something,“ Brynjar said. One of the nearest rebel soldiers handed him a large sword and he tossed it carelessly between his hands, never taking his eyes off of you. The way that his gaze rolled over you was like oil on your skin, thick and dark and the worst things you’d ever felt. You felt so vulnerable and if not for Loki keeping you in place you knew you would have tried to run. To his men, he asked, "What do you think, boys? Keep her to play or just kill the wench right now?”

"You don’t want to do that,“ Loki said, trying hard to ignore the despicable things that were being shouted your way. It made his blood boil to hear these men talk about you that way and he wanted nothing more than to eliminate them all where they stood. However, despite his refined skills and reflexes, he knew he would be no match against twenty heavily armed brutes.

"Oh, I really think I do,” he said, poking the tip of the sword against the base of your throat.

"Trust me, Brynjar. Take her back to Aumrauth and lock her up with the rest of the hostages. You needn’t spill more blood than is necessary. Death does not aid a smooth transition of power. She is well known among the royal household after that pitiful attempt to trick your men at the ball. If they find that you killed her, we may face more resistance than before. But if she shows support for the cause, they may understand.“

"And if she escapes? How do I know that she won’t warn the palace of the attack? That she hasn’t already warned them?”

"She’s a servant! Nothing more! Even if she spoke to others - which I can assure you, she did not - they wouldn’t put weight on her words. Odin hates her. He would never believe a word that came out of her mouth. You needn’t worry.“

Brynjar considered his words carefully before eventually lowering the sword. However, his grip on the handle remained a little too tight for your liking and you feared that one wrong word would be enough to break his resolve. You could see in his eyes how badly he wanted to kill you. Or perhaps that was just the urge to kill in general. There was no way to tell the two apart.

He signalled to his men to lower their weapons, which they reluctantly did, before pulling you to your feet and throwing you against the thick tree. Your hands were bound behind your back before you were shoved back towards the centre of the clearing and Loki. "You will stay here with her too.”

"That wasn’t a part of the plan, Brynjar. I was to join you in the attack and reap the glories of battle by your side.“

"You have shown your true colours today, trickster. If you can be swayed to turn on even the woman you love then I would never trust you to fight by my side.” With a mere glance to his men, they grabbed Loki and tied his hands behind his back in the same way they had yours. “Erlend, take them to Aumrauth and lock them with the others. Geir, you go and rally the armies. We’re moving forward with the attack. We move tonight.”

Erlend and his group of men shoved you forward, ordering you to start moving or face the most unpleasant of deaths. Understandably keen to avoid such a fate, you followed their orders. You kept trying to catch Loki’s eye but he refused to look up from the ground until you finally whacked him in the side with your elbow.

Under your breath so none but he could hear, you whispered, “I guess that didn’t quite the way you’d hoped?”

"No, my dear. It most certainly did not.“


	12. Chapter 12

The entire trek to Aumrauth, Erlend and his men made no secret of their intentions towards you. Their jokes and jibes were beyond crude, filled with such unpleasantly vivid images that you’d soon rather fight a bilgesnipe than spend a moment alone with any one of them. It filled you with such a hatred that you thought your head might explode but you stayed quiet, mainly out of fear of what they’d do if you didn’t.

You weren’t the only one put on edge by their frankly disgusting adolescent behaviour; every time they so much as opened their mouths, Loki stiffened beside you, edging ever closer in an attempt to protect you. Despite his clear posturing, the rebel soldiers were clearly unimpressed by a palace guard - or at least Loki’s illusion of one. 

When one of the less subtle members of the group brushed uncomfortably close to you for the fifth time in as many minutes, you narrowed your eyes at him and hissed, “Touch me again and I’ll rip your pathetic, little…”

"Darling, hold your tongue,“ Loki said, his gentle warning far more effective at silencing you than the shouts and threats of further violence from Brynjar’s rebel soldiers. He wanted to reach out to touch your arm, to lace his fingers through his and reassure you that he was right there by his side, but his hands were stilled tied behind his back. Of course, Loki could have broken out of them at any point but he feared making such a move would put you in danger.

"What was that game that you and your brother used to play as kids?” you whispered, so quietly that even standing right beside you Loki had to strain his hearing to make out your words. Loki was so tense, his muscles coiled up so tight, that you feared they may snap if he didn’t relax soon. The men surrounding you were also becoming wary of him, their hands twitching around the handles of their weapons, ready to attack at any moment - you feared with or without provocation. “Get help?”

"We are not doing get help,“ Loki said before you’d even finished speaking. He wasn’t even convinced that you’d be able to pick him up and there was certainly no way that he would ever throw you at these brutes. However, when he caught your smirk and realised that you were only trying to lighten his mood, he shook his head and asked, "How do even know of that? That was long before you joined the household.”

"The servants know everything. Stories like that aren’t easily forgotten.“

"I wish they were,” Loki grumbled. Despite his frown you knew that he was looking back on those memories with a twisted fondness; the same way you thought of your childhood with Inga. All the times that she had picked on you growing up, teased you and made you do ridiculous - and often dangerous - things. The curse of being the younger sibling but something you’d never have traded for the world.

"Will you two shut up?“ the nearest man to you hissed, swinging his arm around and backhanding you across the cheek.

Before either you or Loki gathered the courage to make a counter attack on the filthy men escorting you, the far edges of Aumrauth came into view. What you saw was enough to stop you in your tracks.

Your beautiful home, the place you had so many wonderful memories of, was in ruins.

Aumrauth had always been such a lively village. Children ran around playing with no care in the world. The women sat in communal circles preparing the meals and fixing the armour of returning soldiers, late into the night under the light of the stars. All, regardless of status, celebrated each and every victory together with the most legendary of parties, second only to those of the palace.

Of course, it hadn’t been perfect. There weren’t always supplies to go around and what was available was never cheap but the community looked after one another. The hardships of living this far out from the capital had never seemed so bad with the company of those around you.

The further into the centre you got, the worse the damage was. Houses were in ruins and there were clear signs of where a struggle had occurred. The people of Aumrauth had tried to barricade the village with a string of hastily put together defences but, with the garrison already slaughtered by then, they had stood no chance against Brynjar’s organised militia.

Only the grand hall stood fully intact and that was where you were being led.

Crinkling his nose at the smell (hardly unexpected when these people had been locked inside for almost a week now) Erlend grabbed your arm and shoved you through the large door and in to the hall. Falling flat on your face, the filthy stone floor surprisingly cool against your cheek, you groaned when a moment later Loki landed on top of you.

"You will remain here and make no trouble,” Erlend ordered, sword drawn and pointed directly at your chest as you pushed yourself up from the ground. “If my men or I hear so much as a sound from you, we will not hesitate to kill you. Do you understand?”

"Perfectly,“ you groaned, twisting your wrists behind your back in a failed attempt to break the rough bonds. "You won’t even know I’m here.”

"You’d best hope not,“ he said, storming out of the hall. The door was locked behind him, or perhaps more accurately blockaded it from the outside so there was no chance of anyone escaping. You were willing to be that he had members of his little gang waiting outside just in case someone was stupid enough to try and get out.

Loki pulled his wrists free of the bonds with ease and came up behind you to help you with yours. Having reached the exact same conclusions about your situation, he nuzzled his face in your hair and whispered, "Please don’t tell me that you’re already trying to find some way to escape. We’ve been here less than five minutes.”

"I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,“ you replied, still able to feel all the places that Loki’s gentle fingers had brushed your hands whilst freeing you from the ropes. Ignoring the rest of his murmurings, you began to look around the hall to see if you could spot the one face that you were so desperate to see.

It struck you as strange the way that the villagers that were trapped in here with you completely avoided eye contact with you. They appeared to actively be ignoring you, backs turned and heads down. It felt so wrong to have these people that you had known for longer than you could remember treat you this way.

You slowly made your way through the clusters, asking in hushed tones whether anyone had seen your family. The only answer you ever replied was a quick shake of the head. Never anything more helpful. No one had seen Inga.

It broke your heart to see the injuries that the people had suffered. Some were old enough and severe enough to have only been sustained during the initial battle for Aumrauth. Others were far more recent than that and that filled your with fury. Even in a revolution like this, surely the rules of war still applied? To even think of harming prisoners or hostages was despicable and you hoped that these so called freedom fighters would one day soon find themselves in the lowest circles of Hel.

"Y/N?” Loreda, the wife of the district’s wealthiest tradesman, stepped out of the crowd and laid a hand on your shoulder. She had changed much since you’d last seen her; her hair was now greying although very gracefully, you had to add. Her clothes were tattered and you couldn’t help but count the number of bruises up and down the length of her arms. She gave you a stiff smile and pulled down on what remained of the sleeves of her dress to cover the worst of them. “It has been a long time since I saw you last. Why are you here?”

"I heard about the attack. They knew very little at the palace about what was going on, only that Aumrauth had been attacked by the rebels and the garrison slaughtered. I had to come and see whether my family were alright.“

"You should have stayed where you were protected,” Loreda said, the crowds of people parting almost scarily as you crossed the room. “We have heard stories of what you’ve been up to at the palace, Y/N. You’ve managed to make yourself some dangerous enemies, although I suppose you already knew that.”

You winced when she touched the bruise on your cheek, her gaze dropping to the marks that littered your neck. “The palace isn’t safe for me now. I’d have faced the same dangers there if I’d stayed that I have stumbled across on my trip here. At least this way I can make sure my family are safe.”

"Who is your friend?“ she asked, briefly looking over her shoulder to Loki - still disguised with his illusion as a guard of the palace - behind you. He was too busy studying the crowds to notice, his guilt and sympathy for the villagers’ sufferings palpable. "You must have known that bringing a royalist - especially one still in uniform - with you was dangerous.”

"He’s kept me safe this far.“

"And yet you are just as much of a prisoner here as we are.”

"For now. Tell me, Loreda, where is Inga?“

Her silence almost broke you as you imagined the very worst. You realised that she’d been avoiding your question the whole time you’d spoken and that twisting knot in your stomach only got tighter as her silence persisted. She led you over to the corner of the hall where your niece and nephews were curled up and you let out a cry of relief.

Rushing over to them and wrapping them in your arms, you whispered over and over again, "Thank the Norns that you are alive. I’m so glad that you’re okay.”

The eldest of Inga’s children, Ander, was the first to pull away. He was much taller than you remembered, but then it had been so very long since you’d last visited. Trying his best to be stern, and failing miserably as a combination of relief and pride filled his voice, he said, “Before she left with the others, mother warned me that you’d do something stupid. She said that when you got here I was to pinch you really hard in the arm and make you apologise.”

"Apologise for what?“ you asked, a smile on your face despite everything. Holding Kol and Sigrid to your sides, arms wrapped so tightly around the twins that they were playfully beating their tiny fists against you to try and escape, you pointed out, "You’re the one that’s going to pinch me. You should be apologising.”

True to his promise Ander reached out and pinched your fore arm, scarily in the exact same place that Inga had always picked as children. Prying his little brother and sister free from your grip, he said, “Mother said you should apologise for not letting her deal with Cinderella on the night of the ball. And for all the stupid, dangerous things that you’ve been doing since. And for not coming to visit sooner.”

"I’m sorry,“ you whispered, pulling all of the children back into your arms and placing a kiss on the top of each of their heads. "And I’ll even tell Inga when she returns, too. Oh, she’ll love that won’t she.”

"Did you bring us one of those nice pies, aunty Y/N?“ Sigrid asked, her bright blue eyes shining as she fluttered her eyelashes at you. For as long as the little girl could remember, your visits home always meant the most amazing food and - from her perspective, especially now when she was hungry and tired - good food was the most important thing in the world. "Or one of those yummy cakes? What happened to the pretty dress that mummy said you wore? She said you looked like a princess! Why don’t you look like one now?”

You looked over Sigrid’s head and raised an eyebrow to Ander, wordlessly asking whether she would stop asking questions any time soon. It was almost funny how talkative she was, whereas her twin had said nothing to you since you’d arrived. Ander shook his head and sat down with Kol, grabbing Sigrid’s hand and pulling her down with them. “Let aunty Y/N talk to Loreda and her guard friend, Siggy.”

"I promise I’ll bring you cake next time, okay?“ You placed another kiss on to each of their foreheads and promised to be back as soon as you could. "You’ve done a good job keeping them safe, Ander.”

"I know,“ he said, practically waving you away as he began telling his siblings a great tale of bravery. They looked up to him in complete rapture and it filled your heart to see them safe and well. Of course, they were a little worse for wear but after a wash, some rest and a good meal they would be good as new.

Rising to your feet and walking back over to Loreda and Loki, who had stepped aside to give you a private moment with the children, you asked "Ander said Inga had left. Where did she go? When was she last seen?”

Regret for having no such better news to share plastered across her face, Loreda said, “Y/N, I’m sorry to say but Inga hasn’t been seen since the attack. She and a few others bravely managed to sneak away to try and find help but no word has been head of them since. We live with hope but the odds aren’t good. I’m so sorry.”

"She’s not dead. She can’t be.“

"I will keep our remaining scouts looking but I fear I cannot promise you good news. We are limited by how far we can send them without risking their own safety and, as valued a member of the village as Inga was… Is… I can’t risk the lives of so many others just to try and locate her. At least the children are safe.”

Looking around, you realised that a scary proportion of the children still alive were without their parents or guardians. It made sense, you supposed. Remove the adults capable of resistance and then brainwash the next generation to build up the brave new world that they all wished to see. As glad as you were to see them safe, you couldn’t help but feel responsible for the fact that so many had become orphans.

Loki seemed to sense your guilt, feeling something not too dissimilar himself, and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he said, “This isn’t your fault, Y/N.”

"Brynjar only ordered this attack on Aumrauth because he knew I had family here,“ you said, pulling yourself free from his embrace. It had felt so good, surrounded by his warmth and love, but there was a tiny voice in the back of your head telling you that you didn’t deserve that sort of kindness. Not when there were broken families all around you, torn apart by the harsh blade of a sword.

"You don’t know that.”

You scoffed, challenging him to come up with a better solution. Sure, there had been a royal garrison stationed here but it wasn’t big. They were too far away from the palace to have been summoned in the case of a threat and had posed no real danger to Brynjar’s plans. The death and destruction that was now evident here, that was on you.

Suddenly backing you against the wall, using his body to shield you from the prying eyes of others, Loki braced his arms either side of you to stop you from slipping away. “Y/N, do not carry this weight on your shoulders. It is not yours to bear. If I had killed Brynjar the evening of the ball rather than allowing his plans to progress this far then many lives could have been spared. I am considerably more to blame than you, my dear.”

"It isn’t your fault, Loki,“ you whispered, keeping your voice down to reduce the risk of alerting anyone to his true identity. You weren’t entirely certain how the people of Aumrauth would react to seeing a prince of Asgard, not when Brynjar and his men had apparently made no secret that the reason for their behaviour was striking out against the crown. With that in mind, the villages may not react kindly to Loki’s presence.

Despite everything, the corners of Loki’s mouth twitched in amusement. "I’m sensing a double standard, here. Why are you allowed to feel guilty but I’m not?”

"Shut up,“ you grumbled, not having an answer to that.

"That’s what I thought,” he said, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. “I can only imagine how difficult it is for you to see your home put through this kind of suffering but know that I am here for you, my love. Whether you like it or not. Now. You should return to your sister’s children and ensure that they are well. I will find out what I can about the security arrangements around the village and come up with a plan to get us back to the palace.”

"You want to go back?“

"My intention was always to get you here, to Aumrauth, to where you were safe, and then return to the palace to put stop to their plan. I must stop Brynjar and Cinderella before they murder my family.”

"I thought you wanted to be king.“

Resting his forehead against yours, Loki closed his eyes while his hand found yours. "I do. Did. Either way, I am certain that my usefulness to Brynjar has run its course. He will not hesitate to kill me once he has gained control of the kingdom. If I do not stop him now then I may never get the chance again.”

You kissed his cheek as he pulled away and watched him disappear into the crowd of villagers as he began his surveillance. You spent the evening with your niece and nephews, gladly listening to their tales and stories of everything that you had missed in these past few years. It lightened the air to see them so happy and relaxed, although there was an underlying fear in their eyes. They missed their mother and feared for her safety. Your reassurances seemed to help alleviate their worry but did little to appease your own.

Around dusk - or what you at least suspected had to be dusk due to the dropping temperatures - Loki circled back to you. He crouched down at your side, momentarily smiling at the image of you surrounded by sleeping children. Although not yours, they shared some of your more distinctive features. He could only imagine what your own kids, should you ever have any, would look like. They would be just as beautiful as you, he had no doubt, and perhaps even more with his dark hair.

He immediately pushed those treacherous, if not wonderful, thoughts aside, knowing that after everything that such a future was unlikely. Impossible. Loki had never really wanted children of his own but the thought of having a family with you was a surprisingly tempting idea.

Keeping his voice low so not to wake Ander, Kol and Sigrid, Loki tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and said, “I have an idea. You’re just probably not going to like it.”

He was right. You didn’t like it at all. But with no better idea to fall back on you had no choice.

You wriggled out from underneath the tangle of limbs and bodies that used you as a pillow, accidently waking Ander in the process. A finger to your lips, you whispered, “I need you to look after the twins. You’ve been doing such an amazing job and I need you to do it again. Can you manage that?”

"You’re doing something stupid again, aren’t you?“

"I suppose I am but I don’t have a choice. I can’t just sit back and let Lo… let my friend face this alone. I promise to return as soon as things have settled. I just need you to be strong for me, Ander. For your mother.”

"The guardsman,“ your nephew said, his eyes flickering to where Loki stood just a few feet away. "He’ll protect you? Keep you safe?”

There wasn’t a moment of hesitation when you answered, “Yes.”

"Come back to us, aunty. If… If mother doesn’t return, we shall need you in one piece.“

"Oh, Ander,” you said, pulling him into a tight hug. Smoothing his hair down, getting your fingers caught in all the knots and tangles that come from sleeping in a hall for a week, you kissed the top of his head and said, “Inga and I will be back before you know it. I promise.”

Another few hugs later, and the gentle but non-negotiable order for Ander to stay put with the twins no matter what, you accepted Loki’s hand and made your way to the hall’s large door. Your breathing understandably a little erratic considering what you were about to do, you asked, “Are you sure about this?”

Loki didn’t answer straight away, instead watching on gratefully as Loreda moved the nearest villagers away from the door. Obviously Loki had shared his plan with her too, needing her help to ensure no one else got hurt. Closing what little space there was between you, he said, “There is not much else we can do if we’re trapped in here with these people.”

"Alright, then. Here goes nothing.“

Banging your fist against the large door, you were immediately greeted with shouts from the very angry guards outside. "Stop that noise right this instant!”

When you didn’t, you heard the sound of heavy objects being shifted outside - the barricade being moved. The door opened and in the last light of the day you were faced with a group of at least ten soldiers, all armed to the teeth. Their eyes narrowing as recognition of your faces flooded through their bodies, it was Erlend that growled, “Why am I not surprised?”

This wasn’t like dealing with Cinderella, or even Brynjar. There were no clever words exchanged. No thinly veiled threats backed up by just enough physical force to scare you into believing them. Erlend and his men hit hard. They attacked with a bloodlust that made their eyes gleam with the twisted pleasure of seeing you and Loki in pain. 

All it took was a few hits to subdue you. After all, with the weight of five grown men and a whole host of weapons pointed your way, you had stood no chance. You had managed to get a few good hits in - an elbow to Erlend’s nose, cleaning breaking it in half, had to be one of the highlights of your life - but it wasn’t long under you were overpowered. You submitted willingly, or at least with the pretence of willingness, and allowed them to drag you from the hall and throw you in to the open space outside.

You didn’t even care at the way that the remaining soldiers around the large bonfire looked at you with hungry eyes. You were too invested in watching Loki fight.

He moved with an agility and grace that you had never witnessed, dodging blows that he shouldn’t have even been able to see coming. From nowhere he summoned a small blue dagger, hurling it at one of the soldiers and taking him down instantly. However, before he could conjure another, he was surrounded by what seemed the entirety of Erlend’s “elite” force. Even he could not escape that.

To make matters worse, the guards armour that he appeared to wear was little more than an illusion. Yes, it had substance but it did nothing to dull the intense attacks directed at him and the soldiers were vicious. Loki could so little more than curl up into a ball to try and protect himself. You wanted to leap up and try to save him but knew it would do little to help.

What seemed like an eternity later, they hauled Loki to his feet and threw him in your direction. You immediately crawled over to him, cupping his bruised and battered face in your hands. You brushed your thumb over his split lip, apologising when he winced in pain. “Can you stand?”

Whether he could or not, Loki had little choice. You were both forced to your feet and led - pushed - towards what was effectively an old, converted barn. Loki was shoved in first, landing not so elegantly in a large pile of horse manure.

Erlend gripped your arms and twirled you around, shaking his head in what you suspected was disappointment. Running his fingers over the deep blue and purple patches on your face, pulling down on your swollen lips, he grinned wickedly. You almost gagged when he forced his finger into your mouth and, desperate for this not to go that way, did the first that came to mind. You bit him. Hard.

"You bitch!“ he yelled, pushing you to the ground. "I’ll deal with you both later.”

Slamming the barn door behind him, you scrambled over to Loki and helped him to sit up against the wooden wall. You brushed the worst of the dirt from him, apologising each time that you put pressure on an area that hurt. Unfortunately, that amounted to just about every inch of his body.

You noticed that Loki’s hands were shaking terribly, and were willing to be that it was more than just anger or adrenaline. Your voice low, for anything more would have caused unnecessary pain on your already crushed voice box, you said, “Loki, you must drop the illusion. You’ve wasted so much magic holding it through this. Please. I’ll keep you safe.”

"If they see me, they’ll kill me.“

"Erlend will kill us either way, Loki. Rest. Gather your strength. We will need it if we are to escape in the early hours of the morning.”

"What about you?“ Loki asked, a green ripple flowing over his skin as he let the illusion fade. His skin was broken in so many places, covered in harsh gashes from their swords and so many bruises that there was hardly an area undamaged. "You need to rest too.”

"I’m fine. It’s you we need to get us out of here tomorrow. Please.“

Loki nodded, even that mere movement enough to make him wish for death. One of those savages had put a boot to his neck and the prince knew he was lucky that it hadn’t snapped his spine. In fact, he knew he was lucky that this had worked - in as much a victory as it could be - at all. Glancing at you with dreary eyes, the whole world a little blurry now, Loki felt dreadful knowing that it was his plan that had caused you so much pain. "I’m sorry.”

"Sleep,“ you insisted, ignoring his protests and laying him down with his head in your lap. You ran your fingers through his hair, stroking gently until Loki’s breathing finally reached a slow, semi stable rhythm. It wasn’t much later before your own eyes began to feel heavy and you drifted off into an equally uncomfortable sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

"I must apologise, lady Cinderella. It must have completely slipped my mind!“ Thor said, barely slowing in his training to stop and talk to his uninvited guest. Swinging Mjolnir around with far more force than necessary and beheading the training dummies with ease - in fact, it was more obliterating them than beheading them since only fragments of their sad little skulls remained - he said, "My brother has taken a trip to Alfheim. He asked me to pass along the message that he would be gone for a few days but I appear to have forgotten.”

Cinderella narrowed her eyes at the prince, clearly sceptical. “Why would he go to Alfheim? And where is Y/N?”

Holding out his hand to call Mjolnir back to him, Thor crossed the courtyard and stood towering over Cinderella. Even if she believed him incapable of harming her, his stature was intimidating and she shuddered in his shadow. Her entire body tightening, her muscles coiling and ready to flee at any moment, Cinderella looked the closest to panicking that Thor had ever seen her. It was obvious that she didn’t dare consider the possibility of overpowering him, especially not when he was armed with Mjolnir.

Thor chuckled and patted Cinderella heartily on the shoulder, the light sound at complete odds with the dangerous look in his eyes. “I have never known my brother’s mind, my lady. His intentions are his own but I did hear from lady Sif that the elves have recently fashioned a new range of the most beautiful fabrics in all the realms. I would not be surprised to hear that he has gone to sample their creations and bring back a selection for your wedding gown.”

"I beg your pardon?“

"Oh dear! I appear to have ruined the surprise. No harm in telling you the rest now, I suppose. My father was to announce it this evening at dinner before the court. With unrest growing in the kingdom, the council decided that a wedding would be good for the morale of the people. You and Loki are to marry as soon as he returns at the end of the week.”

"I… Um…“

Thor felt a certain amount of satisfaction at having apparently broken Cinderella, and only felt a tiny stab of guilt over the fact that everything he had said was a lie. No such decision had been made, although it was on the table as an option in the near future. Instead of a marriage, the council were actually planning numerous executions for the week’s end. The rebels that had been captured the night of the ball, having now spent months in the jails were to receive their sentences at last. It was hoped, foolishly, that it would dissuade others from joining the cause.

The prince knew that it was too late to for that, and that an attack was imminent, but couldn’t get the council to believe him. Even with proof that Cinderella was not of Vanaheim - found after Hogun had spent endless hours searching through the royal archives and discovered no mention of a Vanir lady named Cinderella in ten thousand years of history - they would not believe that she was involved in any kind of plot. The common folk of the kingdom believed her to be a princess, after all she had the beauty and demeanour of a royal, and they all still laboured under the misguided illusion that Loki truly wished to marry her.

It was beyond frustrating, especially since Thor knew that you were the one Loki truly wished to marry, a union he personally thought that the kingdom would accept just as readily given your heroics, but he knew better than to push the subject and risk the truth coming out too early. Cinderella had to remain unsuspecting of his true motives for keeping her busy over the coming days and the court could stay blind to the reality of the situation since their involvement would undoubtedly mess up preparations anyway.

So, Thor continued to nod along with the council’s decisions, bite his tongue and begin moving the pieces into place just as he and Loki had discussed. Or rather, Loki had discussed and Thor had listened. Either way, the older prince was to make sure that the castle was prepared for an attack whether they knew it was coming or not.

He just hoped that this frankly ridiculous plan of Loki’s didn’t get them all killed before the truth was finally revealed.

***

Loki woke you before dawn.

He shook you out of your dreams and pulled you to your feet without a word. The illusion was back in place, although if you looked hard enough you could see small details of his true self. His skin appeared paler than it had before, replacing the golden hue that it had held the day before. The dark blue eyes of the guard were beginning to lighten, small flecks of his own gorgeous emerald irises bleeding through. Perhaps most obvious, though, was in his hair. The light brown strands that had been visible beneath his helmet were now clearly tinted raven black.

You hoped that these little changes were only visible to you because you were specifically searching for them but feared that one of Erlend’s men might notice. If they realised who he was, they would kill him on sight regardless of Brynjar’s orders. You were grateful for the early morning darkness as it would help him maintain his disguise.

Perhaps most troubling, though, was the fact that you knew Loki had to be seriously hurt to be unable to hold the illusion perfectly in place. Reasoning with him would do no good, you knew that, but it didn’t stop you from trying nonetheless. Tying your hair up into a messy bun as you pushed fought off the call of sleep, you said, "Loki, you must stay here.”

"I must do nothing of the kind,“ he said angrily. His illusion was solidifying again and, whilst you were glad to see his most recognisable features fading away, you feared that doubling his magic use this way would only make his condition worse. Leaving no room for argument, Loki said, "We will stick with to the plan that I devised yesterday. I will play my part as we discussed and you shall play yours. Do you understand?”

"Of course, my prince.“

"Y/N, wait,” Loki said, grabbing your hand as you stormed passed. Letting his magic drop so you could see the apology on his face, as swollen and bruised as yours, the purples and blues even more pronounced against his pale skin, he gently pulled you back to him. He didn’t want to be presumptuous so didn’t draw you into a hug but hardly bothered to hide his relief when you wrapped your arms carefully around his neck.

Pressing his cheek against yours, his fingers digging in to your bag as he held you tightly, scared to let go, Loki whispered, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

"No, you shouldn’t have,“ you agreed. Allowing yourself one moment of peace, you closed your eyes and melting into his arms, revelling in the safety and feeling of home that his touch always seemed to provide. The anger you felt faded away and concern for the prince once again took a hold of you. "I’m just worried about you, Loki.”

"And I for you, Y/N. I am simply trying to protect you.“

"I don’t need protecting.”

Loki laughed, a wonderfully warm sound that wrapped around you like the softest of blankets. Leaning backwards, he brushed the hair from your face and smiled at your adorable attempt to look fierce. He placed a gentle kiss on the worst of the cuts beneath your eye, the sharp sting of pain masked by the buzz of his magic.

His fingers still splayed on your back, trapping you against his chest, Loki looked down at you with an intensity that made your legs shake. “My darling, you most certainly need protecting if only from your own recklessness.”

"You’d have me some docile woman that followed your orders and allowed you to traipse into the jaws of death without backup?“

"Of course not, my love. I’d have you no other way than you already are. You are the strongest, bravest woman I have ever known and to see you change would be a travesty. You are all I could ever need or want in a partner but, for the privilege of having such an equal, I must return the favour. So, when you decide to do something tremendously reckless it is my duty to at least point out the disaster that awaits.”

"And if I decide to follow that path anyway?“

"Then I shall stick to you like a shadow and be by your side when it all goes to Hel. For as long as we both shall live.”

"Loki, I…“

The prince shook his head, brushed his lips against yours and, even though it appeared to physically pain him, turned away from you. The now familiar green flash filled the room as he summoned his illusion, using it as armour to hide the emotions that had been threatening to overcome him. "This is a conversation for another time, my dear. We must proceed with the plan before the day gets any lighter.”

"This was a stupid plan,“ you said, gently running your fingers along your bruised jaw. "Next time, I get to choose how we try to escape and inevitably end up getting beaten to a pulp.”

"I admit, it wasn’t the most well considered plan of mine.“

"That’s for sure.”

"You still trust me, though?“

You nodded, biting the inside of your lip in an attempt to push back the absolute mess of emotions you were feeling. Thankfully, if it could at all be considered so, you had to focus on the task at hand. You couldn’t let yourself be distracted so pushed the feelings as far down as they would go, directing your attention on the part you had to play.

The both of you hovered by the door, peering out the smallest crack between the panels to judge your moment. Wordlessly agreeing that now was the time to act, you slipped outside and parted ways. You sent a final glance in Loki’s direction, longing and hopeful that this wouldn’t end in disaster, before sneaking over to the grand hall and waiting for the signal.

Loki hadn’t told you exactly what to expect but you were fairly confident that him summoning over fifty clones and surrounding Erlend and his men by their dwindling fire was probably it. They drew their swords and began attacking the illusions, unable to discern reality from fiction. Arrows were fired and met the wrong targets as the rebels brought one another down. Loki summoned his daggers and fought the soldiers nearest him before turning on the others.

Even though you had known which Loki was the real one to begin with you soon lost track of where the prince was and knew that now was your time to act. You pushed your muscles as far as you could, feeling them tear and snap as you battled against the blockade that trapped the people of Aumrauth within the grand hall.

"Loreda?” you called out as you finally made some headway with the door.

"Y/N? We are ready!“

With the strength of ten hungry bilgesnipes, the villagers managed to push the doors open with remarkable ease and immediately ran past you and into the battle with Erlend’s remaining men. You collapsed on the steps of the hall, watching with something unnervingly like excitement as the villagers beat the rebel soldiers to the ground. You knew you shouldn’t be glad about seeing Erlend and his men get what they deserved but couldn’t deny the twisted pleasure you felt from it nonetheless.

After what they’d wanted to do to you? They deserved nothing less.

"Let me help you,” a friendly voice said, their careful touch on your shoulder causing your eyes to jerk open. “It’s alright. I’m the village healer.”

"I’m fine,“ you protested, pushing yourself onto your feet only to promptly collapse into the poor man’s arms. He raised his eyebrows at you and you sighed in response, letting him prop you up against the door once again. "Just mask the pain. I don’t need you to waste your powers healing me when my friend needs the help more.”

The healer - Erik, you seemed to recall - didn’t seem convinced but did as you asked anyway. He grabbed a few nearby plants, seemingly at random but you suspected that there had to be some method to his decisions, and then crushed the herbs and leaves in his hands. He closed his eyes and the air warmed around you, the noise in the background faded away to nothing as the healer encompassed you in a bubble of peace. The plants in his hand suddenly began to burn and you breathed in the fumes, the effect almost instantaneous.

Ripping a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt, the healer made a small pouch around the smoking herbs and handed it to you. “The healing magic will linger for a hours. I am sorry that I can make nothing more permanent on such short notice.”

"This is just fine, thank you.“ You felt better than you had in days. Even though you knew the effects wouldn’t last, the improvement in your mood was enough to make you confident about a positive ending to all of this for the first time since Cinderella had arrived at the palace. "Will you help my companion, also?”

Erik nodded, scurrying around the fray towards where Loki was leaning against a ruined building, struggling to breathe. The healer immediately sensed the magic in Loki and judging by the shock on his face recognised him as the prince too. However, he didn’t say anything. He simply began searching for another set of herbs and pulled together a small pouch for Loki to take too.

Holding out his hands, Erik motioned for Loki to take them and the strangest thing seemed to happen when he did. The green glow of Loki’s magic and the golden yellow of the healer began to interact. The gold slowly faded away as the green grew stronger, Erik allowing Loki to pull on his strength like a drip.

Before Loki restored his full power, he broke the link. He’d already taken too much from the healer and couldn’t risk taking any more. Not when Erik clearly hadn’t eaten properly in over a week and had over exerted himself by making two healing pouches for you both in such a short time. Not needing words to communicate how thankful Loki was, the prince made certain that Erik was comfortable and called a nearby villager over to keep an eye on the healer.

"Come, my love. We cannot stay here any longer.“

"But Ander and the twins…”

"They remained in the hall as they were told and will be safe. Only a handful of Erlend’s men got away and now Aumrauth will know to defend itself. They will be ready should they return. But we cannot stick around to help any further. I promise that the children will be okay.“

You wanted to stay behind and check on them, to see them once more before you left, but knew it was too dangerous a risk to take. You couldn’t risk Erlend getting word to Brynjar that you had escaped and were on your way back to the palace to put a halt to their plan. No. You hated it but Loki was right. You couldn’t stay here any longer.

Grabbing enough supplies to tide you over for a day, you and Loki left the villagers of Aumrauth to clean up the mess that you’d made. The forest path was eerily quiet as you walked through. You’d hoped to take a horse to ride back to Asgard’s capital but Erlend and his men had taken the last of them when they’d fled the battle. Even Gyllir was nowhere to be found. You hoped that he had made his way back to the palace and wasn’t just aimlessly walking around the forest - as it felt like you and Loki were doing.

By the time that the sun had reached its high point, you were both beginning to lag. The magic of Erik’s herbs was wearing off and the aches and pains were returning with a vengeance. Even with the magic borrowed from the healer to boost the effects, the injuries seemed to be taking a greater toll on Loki than you’d have expected.

When you stopped for a short break, unable to command your legs to move another step further, you began to worry (more than already) as Loki turned his nose away at the food you offered.

"I know it doesn’t look much but it’s better than the mouldy bread,” you tried. That didn’t get a response of any kind so you crouched down in front of him and asked, “Are you alright, Loki?”

Normally the prince would have waved your concerns away, tried to alleviate your worry with a snarky comment or some kind of joke. So when he shook his head and let the illusion drop you knew something was dreadfully wrong. Slowly lifting the edge of his shirt, he revealed a terrible wound in his side. You couldn’t tell how much blood he’d lost but it was a lot. Dangerously so.

"How did this happen?“ you asked, pulling the shirt over his head and tearing it into strips. With the few medical supplies you had you attempted to clean the wound but made no difference; it was just too bad to try and treat with this little. Still, you used the torn up shirt to make a wrap around him and shook your head in despair. "You’re a fool, Loki.”

"I know,“ he moaned, in so much pain that he didn’t even bother to argue when you handed over your own healing pouch in the hopes that what little magic that remained might help improve his healing. "Erlend is to blame. He saw my illusion faltered before he fled and didn’t hesitate.”

"Please don’t move.“

"Try and stop me.”

You did. In this state, it was hardly a challenge to keep Loki down. All it took was a gentle hand to his chest and he stayed put. Digging through your bag, you pulled out a new shirt and slipped it over Loki’s head. “Try not to breathe too deeply,” you said, scrunching your nose at the smell. “I took it off one of Erlend’s men after he’d been… Uh, dealt with. I don’t think he washed often.”

"Why are you dressing me in a dead man’s clothes, Y/N?“

Tapping the design on his shoulder, a bizarre set of runes that you’d seen embroidered on to every one of the rebels’ shirts, you said, "If we are wearing their uniform, we’re less likely to be shot at. Plus I figured that if you were already wearing their clothes then you wouldn’t have to waste your energy holding that part of the illusion…”

Loki pulled you to him and placed a surprisingly firm kiss on your lips, catching you completely unaware. You quickly relaxed though, returning his kiss with equal passion. You felt heady, riding a wave of absolutely bliss as he ran his hands over your body, wondering why you’d ever stopped loving him. Well, you knew the answer to that. You never had. Even when you’d hated him, you’d still loved him with every fibre of your being.

All too soon he broke away, sliding you out of his lap and insisting that you change your outfit too. You turned your back to him and switched your shirt for that from another dead man, trying hard not to dwell on that fact for too long. The shirt was too big for you by far but you tucked it into your trousers with the hope no one would notice. In a way you were grateful that the fabric didn’t hang too tightly as you weren’t sure you could have taken such pressure against your battered skin.

Helping Loki to his feet, you were relieved to hear that he had targeted his magic around the wound and it was beginning to heal, however slowly, already. Of course, it meant that you and the prince made slower progress through the forest than you’d have hoped but did give you a reason to stay close by his side in case he suddenly needed someone to lean on.

"Loki, can I ask you something?“

The prince looked up from where he had stopped to collect a few new herbs and flowers to make another (better) healing potion since Erik’s had now completely lost their effectiveness. He stared blankly in your direction, the cautious lines around his eyes and the practically imperceptible frown the only signs that he knew what you were going to ask and feared facing such a question. Still, despite that, he nodded for you to continue.

"This morning in the barn, what you said… Did you mean it?”

"I said a lot of things,“ he replied carefully, returning his concentration (or at least pretending to) to the collection of plants. He crushed the leaves and flowers in his hands, squeezing them tightly in his palms, then began searching for a special kind of rock, apparently useful for channelling and amplifying magic. "To which are you referring?”

"You said you’d be by side when life goes to Hel. For as long as we both shall live.“

"Your memory is rather excellent,” he whispered, the dull stone in his hand suddenly shimmering with the most beautiful tones of orange and red. He ground the already crushed plants into the dirt with the stone, perhaps a little more intensely than was actually necessary, before drawing a series of healing rune in the ground.

The connection to nature cemented strong, Loki drew on the power that existed naturally in the forest and channelled it into the stone. It flashed bright green as the link with him burst into existence, the sudden flow of magic making the prince gasp for air. He held a hand up as you rushed to his side, needing a moment before getting up of his own strength and standing tall as if nothing had happened.

Sensing your concern, Loki said, “I’m fine, my love. The stone will act as a magical talisman and aid my healing. The wound should be of little worry now.”

"That’s good to hear,“ you said a little stiffly. It was clear that it was still a conversation for another time so you pushed it aside and matter-of-factly laid out the course to follow. There was a shorter route through the region, unfortunately filled with many ravines and small valleys dangerously known for ambushes. However, you were running short on time and had little other choice. "We should get moving. If we don’t stop for the night we might be able to reach the palace by morning.”

Loki nodded and you continued on your path, until the silence weighed too heavily for the prince to hold his tongue any longer. “Yes,” he stated, so bluntly that you weren’t initially sure to what he was referring. “I meant it. If you’ll have me, I intend to make you my queen and remain at your side until death tears us apart.”

"Loki, I…“

The prince pulled you to his chest and held a hand over your mouth, whispering in your ear, "Did you hear that?”

You shook your head, heartbeat racing. Silently moving his hand from your mouth, he told you to stay put while he investigated. Loki got less than ten steps away when another twig snapped. You definitely heard it that time and when you looked up at the steep sides of land either side of your path you could feel your heartbeat in your throat.

For the second time this trip, you found yourself surrounded by a group of armed mercenaries. They were dressed differently to Erlend and his men, lacking the bright marks on their shoulders that had clearly identified them as rebels to other factions. Those facing you now had their faces covered by thick scarves and were wearing a myriad of old, tattered clothes - the kind worn by simple thieves, people that roamed between towns and villages stealing from wealthy travellers to get by.

At your side, Loki simply sighed at the fact you had managed to once again be caught in the middle of a group of bandits. What else could he do? This journey had quite clearly been cursed and as far as he was concerned - having already been beaten within an inch of his life and facing the loss of all he loved if you didn’t reach the palace in time to stop Brynjar and his men - there was really little else that could turn against his favour now.

The bandits surrounding you eyed you with extreme interest, although you quickly realised it wasn’t the same kind of hunger that Erlend’s men had possessed. No, this was genuine interest and it took you only a moment to realise why. Despite all the terrible things that had happened over the last few weeks, a huge smile crossed your face as a gentle chuckle passed your lips.

"Care to share the joke, my darling?“ Loki asked, almost too tired to care either way.

One of the bandits jumped down from ledge above, swinging off a low hanging tree branch to slow their descent from the higher ground. Walking over to you, casting Loki no more than a perfunctory glance to check he wasn’t armed, their smile was clear even with the scarf covering over half their face. They said nothing as they wrapped you in their arms, burying their face in your neck and holding you so tightly that you feared you would snap in two.

When you finally pulled apart you simply blinked at one another, an entire conversation passing wordlessly between you both. Lifting your shaking hands you unwrapped the dirty strip of fabric from around their face and, even knowing who you’d see, still let out a sob of relief at the oh so familiar face.

"Y/N, you really should have let me kill her at the ball. It really would have saved us an awful lot of trouble.”


	14. Chapter 14

Inga pulled you in for another hug, careful to avoid the bruises that covered your skin. It was a difficult task given just how badly injured you were but the pain hardly mattered. Not now that you knew your sister was safe. “Who’s your friend?”

"Believe it or not, you’ve already met before. He introduced you to those wonderfully wealthy nobles on the night of the ball…“

"Are you insane?” Inga yelled. Lowering her voice so no one else could hear, the rest of her group having now climbed down from the higher ground and gathered in the narrow pass, she spared a stiff smile towards Loki and asked, “You dragged the prince along on this suicide mission with you? Y/N, how hard did they hit you?”

"Loki came willingly.“

"Keep your voice down, Y/N!” Inga said, grabbing you arm and turning your back to the others. “These paths are being watched by Brynjar’s men. They’re everywhere and it’s a miracle that you didn’t bump into them earlier, especially after what you did in Aumrauth. Yes, I heard about that. Bad news travels quickly. I knew you were reckless but this? Really, Y/N?”

Tearing your arm free from your sister’s grip, you just rolled your eyes at her worry. She seemed to be forgetting that you were a grown adult, capable of looking after yourself. If she only knew what you’d been through; the hardships that Cinderella had made you suffer, the dangers of sneaking around after her and having already been stabbed long before you’d realised exactly what you were involved in. With all of that in the past, of course you were going to have been confident that you could survive any further danger that life might throw your way.

You exasperatedly ran a hand through your hair, ending up with your fingers caught in the mess of tangles. Narrowing your eyes at Loki, who was stood a few foot behind Inga and watching your struggles with a smirk on his face, you said, “If you’re done calling me out on this, we really do have somewhere else to be.”

"We are not done with this conversation, Y/N!“ Inga said in her most motherly voice. Under that level of disappointment, you suddenly wished that you were back at the palace being ripped to shreds by Cinderella. Surely that would have been kinder. "You dragged a prince into what is effectively a war zone without any weapons of your own or even a plan! Now you’re walking around the forests in the open, dressed in clearly stolen uniforms and walk into possibly the easiest place in the kingdom for someone to have ambushed you!”

You opened your mouth to contest her points but she held up and finger and continued to hiss, “Did you not think about what could have happened if you’d been killed? What would happen to us? To Ander, Kol and Sigrid? They would never have been able to cope if you’d died on ridiculous mission in their name. What kind of mother do you think I am to even possibly leave them in harm’s way? Honestly, I am offended that you would think for one moment that I wouldn’t be capable of protecting them.”

Again, you were cut off when she continued, “And as for the prince, what would have become of the kingdom if he had been harmed in any way? I’m surprised that Odin hasn’t sent out a royal guard to try and find him yet. And just think what might have happened if he had! These paths would run with the blood of the brave soldiers only out here because you were stupid enough to bring Prince Loki with you.”

"For goodness sake, Inga! Stop berating me like one of your children and let me speak!“ Your sharp temper caught Inga by surprise and she bit her tongue long enough for you to explain, "As I have told you already, Loki came of his own accord. Thor is at the palace ensuring that no one asks of his location and everything is fine. Ask him yourself.”

You beckoned Loki over and he reluctantly appeared by your side, clearly unwilling to get involved an argument between siblings. Still, he put on a smile through the illusion and said, “You look well, Inga.”

"Thank you, my prince. Forgive me if I don’t bow. It is probably best that the rest of my faction refrain from learning your true identity for the time being,“ Inga said politely, simultaneously glaring daggers at you. "I apologise for my sister dragging you out all this way as protection when she could have easily brought one of the guardsmen instead.”

"I came of my own volition, as I’m sure Y/N has told you. If I might also say, I believe that Y/N has protected me far more than I have her.“ You knew that most certainly wasn’t true - after all, he had almost died from injuries sustained in protecting you - but Loki linked his fingers with yours and squeezed tightly to stop you from arguing. He knew that this was the easiest way to appease your sister and, seeing as it was working, you decided to just let him twist the events of the past few days any which way he pleased.

Loki confirming what you’d already said seemed to help alleviate Inga’s anger a little, although it didn’t stop her from berating you about how stupid you had been to come to Aumrauth anyway. Holding up a hand to halt their discussion, you said, "Sister, please. We really do need to get going. Brynjar began moving yesterday to gather his armies and an attack on the palace is surely imminent.”

"You knew this and let me stand here for ten minutes shouting at you! We must move out before damage it done!“

You tipped your head up to the sky, asking the universe what in Hel’s name you’d done to deserve this, when Loki rested his hand on your should and gave a gentle squeeze. As Inga gathered her people around and they came up with some kind of plan, Loki brushed his fingers over a deep purple mark on your cheek and smiled sadly. "How are you feeling?”

"Better than you, I’m sure,“ you said, lifting a hand to his side and gently tracing the area where he had been stabbed. Your fingers tingled as the healing magic flowing through him bled into you, diverting its course to help heal you too. You pulled away as the warm feeling spread over your skin, shaking your head when Loki tried to reach for you again. "Don’t. You need to heal yourself. I’ll be okay. I wasn’t the one that got stabbed.”

"It was barely a scratch,“ Loki laughed weakly. You cupped his face with your hand, somehow able to see his true form beneath the illusion. He was in so much pain and yet he was only concerned with your health. "I will be fine, my love.”

Inga and the other rebel villages from Aumrauth led you out of the tight little valley back onto the main path to where their horses were waiting. Amid the group, you caught sight of one very familiar face - Gyllir - who seemed as relieved to see you and Loki alive as you were to see him.

While Loki crooned over his dear horse, Inga pulled you aside and warned, “We will journey with you only to the outskirts of the capital, sister. Freydis heard word that more rebels have moved from Nevarth. They will reach the palace before us and as much as I love the kingdom, I love my children more. Plus it will be easier to sneak back in to the city with just you and Loki. I fear a group of known survivors from Aumrauth will set off Brynjar’s alarm bells.”

"We’ll be careful,“ you said, anticipating her next words. Wrapping her up in your arms, you held on for as long as you dared before pulling away. "I’m so glad that you are safe, Inga.”

"It will take more than a few disgruntled men to take me down, sister. Now come, we cannot keep the prince waiting any longer.“

Loki pulled you up on to Gyllir’s back with ease, and you made yourself comfy leaning against his chest. You tried to hide you smile as he dotted kisses down your neck, barely paying attention to the road ahead, but failed miserably. You didn’t care, though. Aside from Inga, no one knew of Loki’s true identity and it was amazingly freeing to be able to have him openly show you affection in the company of others - even if it was under the guise of an illusion.

The ride to the city of Asgard was a silent one. No one in the party was willing to break stride and you rode hard through the evening until the palace came into view in the distance. All but Inga immediately came to a stop and prepared to turn back, not wanting to stay put any longer than they needed for fear of alerting someone to your arrival.

"Be safe, sister. My prince. My thoughts will be with you both. For the sake of the kingdom, for the people, my children, don’t screw this up.”

"When have I ever…“ you began, stopping quickly when you caught the smirk on Inga’s face. Given the chance, she would undoubtedly go on for hours listing the many things that you had screwed up in the past. Reaching over and hugging her tightly, you said once again, "We’ll be careful. Please, take care of yourself too. I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”

"It is not me that you should worry about. It is you going into the dragon’s lair.“ A final hug and Inga whispered, "Y/N, whatever you do, don’t hesitate. As soon as you see Cinderella, kill the bitch. If you hesitate for just a moment, she will best you. No matter what the situation, promise me. Finish this and save Asgard from these madmen.”

As Inga and the other survivors turned and headed towards Nevarth, Loki helped you to dismount Gyllir. There was no question as to when you reached the city of Asgard. Unlike the smaller villages throughout the kingdom which slowly faded into civilisation - the outskirts of every settlement made up of scattered outposts, slowing becoming more densely populated as you migrated towards the centres - the divide between the forest and Asgard was sharp.

The bricked pathway started suddenly and the canopy of trees to which you’d become so accustomed was replaced by (admittedly very beautiful) towering buildings. The gentle scent of nature was now overpowered by the wealth of goods from the market stools, ranging from freshly cooked foods inspired by the cuisine of each of the nine realms to overpriced and questioningly effective healing salts and potions. And the noise… The bustle of the lower town was like an assault on your ears. You had no idea which way to look and could hardly tell whether the nearby crashes and bangs were from clumsy traders dropping their goods and wears or explosions by Brynjar’s army of rebels.

Where you were having a difficult time readjusting, Loki was practically comatose at your side. You realised a moment too late that he had probably never been into this part of the city at all and the experience would hardly be any easier on him after spending the past three days in peace - as much peace as one can have when being held hostage or on the run for their life - surrounded by nature. He gripped onto Gyllir’s reigns like a life line, pressing himself against the horse and using him as a shield against the madness.

"Is it always like this?“ he asked, his gaze dashing in every which way as he tried to work out what was and what was not a threat. You’d never seen Loki this disorientated and got the distinct impression that he’d rather be in the middle of a burning battlefield than spend another moment here in the market.

"This is a quiet day.”

You took Loki’s hand and pulled him and Gyllir down a slightly quieter set of back streets. As you slipped through the crowds you couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched. Of course, you were. Practically everyone in the city had heard of you and your heroics and your face was well known by many. If you weren’t careful, word of your arrival would reach the palace and you’d lose the element of surprise.

Perhaps a little too late, seeing as you’d already made it through half the lower town, you pulled a scarf from a stool as you passed and wrapped it around your head. If the situation had been different, you might have felt bad about stealing from an honest shopkeeper but right now such thoughts were far from your mind.

You could always return it - but you knew you wouldn’t, as it was by far the nicest material you had ever had the pleasure of touching. It was softer than the finest Asgardian silks and the length was embroidered with an incredible detail that even the most experienced of seamstresses would have struggled with. You suddenly felt even less bad about keeping it.

"What’s with the scarf?“ Loki asked, visibly trying not to stab every person that came within a metre of him. You couldn’t tell if he was more worried for your safety or his but when you shuffled closer to him, acting as a barrier with Gyllir on his other side, Loki seemed to calm enough so that he didn’t draw more attention your way.

Pulling the fabric tighter around your shoulders, you whispered, "It’s my disguise.”

Loki frowned. “Why don’t I get one?”

"You’ve already got one; you’re wearing an illusion.“ Tugging him down an alleyway that was barely big enough to fit Gyllir through, you said, "There’s a good’s entrance into the palace this way. It’ll take us up into the kitchens and then we can use the servants tunnels to get around without being seen.”

It was a good plan, in theory. However, as you rounded the corner to the back entrance, you pushed Loki back into the shadows so hard that you feared you may actually have broken one of his ribs. The prince opened his mouth to ask what was happening but you held a finger to your lips and nodded towards the tree line at the end of the garden.

He squinted, unable to spot what had gotten you so spooked. A second later, though, what could be described as nothing less than a small army came crashing through the bushes. The men all wore Brynjar’s colours and a small group led the initial charge with weapons high, straight into the palace.

The servants’ cries of resistance were short lived.

When a scout returned and gestured for the rest of the rebel soldiers to move forward, Loki asked, “Why aren’t the guards stopping them?”

"It’s a servant’s entrance, Loki. On any day, it’s guarded by two or three men at most. It will take at least ten minutes to amass enough guards and get them this low into the palace. By the time they get there it will be too late.“

"I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You shook your head, a harsh metallic taste filling your mouth as you bit down on your lip. You would have time to grieve over any friends that may have died at the hands of Brynjar’s men later. Right now you had to stay focused. You had to save the kingdom.

Burying your emotions beneath a plethora practical considerations, you said, “We must move now if we are to stop them from reaching the safe rooms.”

The coast seemingly clear of Brynjar’s men, you and Loki crept around the palace walls and through the delivery entrance. You were met with a sight worse than any nightmare; the tight hallway was packed with fallen bodies, slain where they stood with no way to protect themselves. Your stomach lurched at the familiar faces. These were your friends. Some had been a part of your life for so long that they were practically family.

"Y/N, we cannot afford to dither,“ Loki said softly, taking your hand and guiding you through the carnage. "I am so sorry, my love.”

Pulling your hand free, you crouched down beside a young woman, barely a few hundred years old, and closed her eyes. She’d only joined the household a few weeks ago and this was her reward. Anger towards Brynjar burning in your veins, you asked, “They’ll be given proper burials?”

"Of course. I will see to it personally but now…“

"I know,” you said, swallowing your tears. “We must find them.”

Keeping your gaze at a steady level, trying desperately hard not to focus on the anguished expressions of those around you, you traced your hand along the wall panels until you found the one that hid the servants’ tunnel. Opening it up, Loki followed you as you crept through the dark and dusty passageway.

"This route is rarely used,“ you muttered as Loki complained about the fact you could take no more than ten steps before walking into yet another spider web. "A better one was built about a hundred years ago and this became fairly obsolete.”

"Where does it lead?“

"You’re about to find out. We’re almost there.”

You forced open a pair of shutters and clambered through a small hole in the wall, leading you into the newer main maze of servants’ tunnels. These were far better lit and, much to the prince’s pleasure, filled with far fewer spiders than the older, forgotten path. You didn’t say anything but the fact that there was no one else in the tunnel made you nervous.

In the event of an attack, these passageways were usually overflowing as people shoved their way to safety. However they were deadly silent. Even the rats that shared the tunnels were nowhere to be seen. This really wasn’t good at all.

Increasing your pace, you soon came across the door you were looking for. You swore when you tried it and it didn’t budge, realising that it must have been locked from the other side. Turning to the prince, you asked, “How fond are you of that mural on your chamber wall?”

"It is one of my favourite paintings in the entire palace. Why?“

"You’re going to have to find a new one.” Kicking the door with all your might, you heard the lock snap and the panel flung open into Loki’s bedroom. You stepped out of the tunnel and into his chamber, cringing at the damage that you’d done. What had indeed been a masterpiece was now ruined, splintering into a thousands of small pieces on the floor around the secret entrance.

"Oh, Y/N…“

"Sorry… There was no other way,” you said, for some reason whispering despite the fact that the entire palace would probably have heard that crash and know your location by now. “Come on. If we’re lucky we can get to the safe rooms before they do.”

However, if the past few months of your life had taught you anything, it was that you were not lucky.

Not at all.

Continuing the trend of misfortune, you were no more than ten steps out of Loki’s chambers when you ran into Erlend. He was backed up by a group of men that looked more like trolls than men. They all stood at least a head above Erlend and had muscles that bulged so much that you feared they were moments away from bursting. More terrifying than their physical stature, though, was their expression. They had absolutely no intention of letting you get out of this alive.

Erlend took a single step forward, his eyes gleaming as he looked upon you with a twisted hunger. “I am so going to enjoy killing you.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: there's a lot of violence and fighting, mentions of blood and character deaths.

If someone had asked you before today whether the scrawny haired, angry little man in front of you would truly be capable of murder, you’d probably have laughed in their face.

For all his front, Erlend had never really seemed the killing type. Oh, he was despicable for sure but more the kind of man to make others do his dirty work. He’d treated you with nothing but disrespect and saw you as little more than an object for his own pleasure. You’d rather cut off your hand than be touched by him but you had never thought him capable of taking your hatred and disgust and turning it back on you.

It was clear by the hard line of his eyes that he had no intention of letting you go now, though. For the first time, Erlend looked truly capable of murder. All the humiliation that he was feeling at having been bested by the villagers of Aumrauth, practically nothing more than simple farmers and traders, had been twisted into a dark hatred.

All directed at you and Loki.

Erlend’s hatred and rage oozed from his tense body like a thick and sticky tar; made the air between you cling to you like a slimy second skin. It made you want to claw at your flesh, to tear your skin from your body just to feel clean of his terrible gaze.

The men behind him scowled at you, muscles coiled as equally tense as you stood in a heavy silence waiting for someone else to make the first move. Unlike their leader, they had no personal grudge against you. You were simply obstacles standing in the way of completing their mission. Killing you was a necessary evil but they would take little joy from seeing you dead.

The same could not be said for Erlend.

"Drop your illusion, trickster,“ he demanded stiffly, shifting his sweaty grip on the hilt of his sword. "You should meet death with your true face and not hiding like a coward.”

Your pleads to the prince were ignored and he let his magic fall, the green light barely more than a shimmer as his true form returned. Loki’s eyes were sunken and dark, his spiky and greasy hair a far cry from what you usually saw. He’d never been in a worse condition and having to sustain an illusion while tired and injured clearly hadn’t helped.

Even though he’d been expecting it, Erlend still tensed upon laying eyes on Loki’s familiar face. That soon gave way to a prematurely victorious smirk seeing the bloodstain on the prince’s side, from the wound that he had previously inflicted. “You are going to long for pain as sweet as what we dealt you in Aumrauth.”

Commanded by some silent signal, Erlend’s soldiers stepped forward and charged for you and Loki. Summoning a dagger in each hand, Loki shoved one blade into your hand before turning his attention towards the threat. “Take him down and run, Y/N.”

"I can’t…“

"You will,” Loki ordered, pressing his back against yours. “Get yourself to safety.”

You managed to get very few hits on the first man to attack you, but the ones you hit were effective. Smaller than him by over a foot, there was no way you could aim for the throat or the neck. Instead, you ducked out of his first grab and slashed across his thigh. He stumbled ever so slightly which gave you the opening to slit his arm. In shock he almost dropped his weapon but regained his composure and lunged at you once again. 

Too slow in your attempt to dodge, he knocked you over and you hit your head against the wall with incredible force. Stars blocked your vision and if not for Loki’s cry you would have just lay there and let him pierce your heart. Instead, still barely able to see or even catch a breath, you rolled out the way and narrowly avoided being stabbed in the chest.

In the corner of your eye, you noticed Loki surrounded by five soldiers, somehow managing to prevent them from pinning him down despite his injuries. He slipped between them, dodging each attack with ease. For his agility, it was far from effortless. Every quick turn took its toll on him and his limbs were beginning to drag. That gave Erlend the chance he needed to draw his blade down Loki’s back and bring the prince to his knees.

"No!“ you yelled, catching their attention long enough for Loki to summon a few clones and vanish into the group of illusions to hide himself for a few seconds. The harsh bite of metal against your cheek snapped your attention back to your own opponent and you swung out instinctively, driving your weapon into the man’s gut.

Forcing the blade further into his gut, with an incredibly lucky aim, you felt the resistance against the knife change as you hit one of his major organs. The man fell to the ground with a great thud, dead instantly. You tried to pull the weapon free but it was stuck. No amount of force could remove it, leaving you defenceless.

"Run, Y/N!” Loki yelled, grunting as one of his attackers hit his mark and cut directly over the wound in his side. You didn’t need to be told twice - you knew you probably wouldn’t be so lucky against another opponent - and turned on your heels back towards the prince’s chambers.

"After her you idiot!“ Erlend yelled, his command loud and clear even as you slammed the door to Loki’s chambers.

You tried to barricade the door but you were shaking so much that your body refused to follow your commands. Adrenaline rushing through your veins, you were struggling to breath and your thoughts were clouding. All you felt was panic and that weight on your chest was growing heavier and heavier, restricting your breathing to almost nothing at all.

Shallow breaths drew barely enough oxygen to keep you from blacking out and certainly not enough to make your body move. The doors to Loki’s chambers were shuddering as Erlend’s men fought to break the locking enchantment that kept them closed - for the time being. Even if the doors held, the walls around them almost certainly would not.

Stone dust was filling the room at an alarmingly quick rate and walls were literally shaking as the men continued to ram against them like bilgesnipe. They were going to bring down the entire wing of the palace at this rate, burying you all beneath the rubble without a care for their own safety. By the time you’d caught a breath and made your legs respond, one of Erlend’s men crashed into the room.

He lunged for you, missing by the slightest inch before stumbling forward and shoving you off your path towards the window. Backed against the wall with no way to defend yourself, you searched frantically for something to use as a weapon. Anything that may have been of use was out of your reach and you knew you’d never be able to get past the ogre of a man that was now staring you down.

With little other choice, you barged headfirst at the man and braced yourself for what was to come. He caught you easily, digging his fingers into your arms and lifting you almost five feet off the ground before tossing you aside as if you weighed nothing.

Hitting Loki’s desk was about as painful as you’d expected. The wooden structure was not the only thing to be broken in two, for you were fairly sure that you’d cracked multiple ribs on impact. With more important things to think about, though, you scrambled around the broken desk and frantically searched for the dagger you knew Loki had hidden beneath it.

Just in time you felt the cool metal against your fingers and you whipped it out from beneath the pile of wood, brandishing it in the direction of your attacker. It was pitiful, really - a tiny six inch blade against a troll - but it was all you had.

He clearly thought so too, as a mocking sneer crossed his face. Striding across the room at far too leisurely a pace for the middle of a fight, the man bent down and grabbed you by the wrists, twisting them until they could go no further. The sharp pain shooting up your arms too much to bear, you dropped the blade and went limp in his grasp.

As he flexed his arms to toss you aside once more, you suddenly drew your knee into his groin and that stabbing pain was replaced by a victorious jolt when his knees hit the floor. Kicking him square in the chest, bending down to retrieve the blade in one swift movement, you forced the dagger into the base of his neck. You turned away when he crumpled to the floor, looking no more than you had to at the flowing river of blood while you pulled the blade from his corpse.

"Put the dagger down,” a gruff voice ordered, another of Erlend’s men standing in the doorway with a bow drawn and aimed directly at you. He spared a glance for his fallen comrade, at his blood pooling around your feet. The man’s entire body hardened as he warned you once again to drop your weapon.

It was strange; you could tell from the shift in his muscles that he hadn’t intended to kill you but then he’d seen his friend dead. What had originally been just a part of a bigger plan had now become personal. There was no way he would let you go now and you cursed your damn luck. Very slowly, you held your hands in the air and let the dagger fall to the ground.

"Any final requests?“ he asked, remarkably politely considering the situation.

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but quip, "To not be shot?”

You closed your eyes before the words had even fallen from your lips and waited for the arrow to pierce your skin, but the pain never came. Instead, your eyes flung open at a loud thud as the man fell to the ground, landing on his cross bow and breaking it perfectly in half.

"What?“ Cinderella asked harshly, wiping her knife on one of the many layers of her thick skirt. The blood stain barely visible on the crimson fabric, she motioned for you to pick up your own blade and rolled the ogre of a man over with her foot. She shook her head at the broken crossbow, clearly having hoped to take it for herself. "I just saved your life. The least you could do is say thank you.”

"Thank you?“

"Your gratitude is overwhelming. Are you going to stand there all day or help me save Loki?”

"Loki?“

"You really aren’t making this easy on me, Y/N,” she groaned, running a hand through her flowing golden hair. Cinderella didn’t bother to wait for your reply. She turned on her heels and headed out the room, expecting you to follow. “Yes, Loki. Erlend and the other three backed the prince down the corridor and are chasing him down into the heart of the battle ground as we speak. If we don’t catch up with them now, the prince will die.”

Cinderella disappeared from view and with a sudden clarity you ran after her. Your heavy footsteps were at complete odds with the quick, dainty sound of her heels on the floor. You looked quite the duo strutting through the castle; Cinderella in her beautiful, scarlet dress flowing behind her like a fluffy cloud and you covered in blood and dirt and looking like you’d not had a good night’s sleep in over a month (which was probably true). Hardly a pair you’d expect to be working together but you had to save Loki and Cinderella was your best bet of finding him before he met a terrible fate.

Making sure to keep a fair distance between you and Cinderella, always wary of the serrated blade in her hand, you followed without a word. She took you down a side passageway, down a secret hallway that even you didn’t know existed, and less than a minute later you were once again face to face with Erlend and the three other men chasing Loki.

Loki stumbled over and you threw your arms around him to keep him on his feet. The wound in his side had reopened and you felt his warm, sticky blood soaking into the fabric of your shirt as you held him against your side. He was gasping unevenly, each breath sharp and painful. In to your ear, he groaned, “Y/N, I can’t…”

"It’s alright, Loki. I’ve got you,“ you whispered, kissing his forehead and shielding him with your body. You spared a glance to Cinderella and, in a rare and unexpected moment of unity, you both knew exactly what to do. With a flick of your wrist you flung your dagger at Erlend, hardly worried that it missed its target.

The men had been so focused on you, recognising you as the enemy, that they didn’t notice Cinderella sneaking around them and coming up from behind. She moved with a speed that you had hardly expected - having, at some point, removed her noisy heels - and brought all three of Erlend’s giant men to their knees before they’d even turned around. 

Her blade to his throat, pressing down against his Adam’s apple, Cinderella said sweetly, "I’ve been waiting for years to do this, Erlend. To finally give you exactly what you deserve.”

"You bitch! Wait until Brynjar hears…“

"Oh, do shut up,” she said, rolling her eyes as she drew the edge of the knife across his throat. Cinderella tossed him aside and seemed more upset over the fact that in falling Erlend had grabbed at her skirt and tore the expensive fabric right up the seam. She didn’t seem at all fazed by the fact she’d just murdered 4 people in under thirty seconds.

Crouching down beside the bodies, Cinderella dug through their pockets and pulled out the few gold coins that they had along with the small, back up blades that each had had tucked away in their boots. They were only a few inches long and very thin - definitely a weapon reserved for the final moments of a fight when all other hope was lost - but each was remarkably beautiful.

They shimmered in the light and were perfectly balanced, clearly made by highly skilled blacksmiths. Cinderella handed one over to you, another to Loki and tucked the remaining two into the holders strapped to her legs, usually hidden beneath the many layers of skirt.

"We should head to the royal safe room,“ Cinderella said, taking up position on Loki’s other side and helping you to keep him balanced. She took more than her fair share of his weight for which your aching muscles were incredibly grateful. "He needs somewhere secure to rest.”

"Why are you doing this?“ you asked, taking the lead and directing Cinderella through the maze of hallways towards the safe room. It should only have taken ten minutes but with Loki hanging over your shoulders, looking worse with each passing second as the life drained from his face, it was far greater a challenge.

Pulling you both into the shadows to avoid a passing group of scouts, she said, "I am no fool, Y/N. I know a losing battle when I see one.”

"So you’d turn against your family to save yourself?“ Loki asked, his voice weak and croaky. He needed medical aid soon or there was every chance that he would succumb to his injuries. All you could hope was that there was a healer in the safe room with the rest of the royals because if there was not… It hardly seemed worth thinking about.

"You are hardly one to judge,” Cinderella snapped back. As much as you hated to admit it, she certainly had a point. After all, Loki had been willing to sell out his family, his throne and his kingdom just to protect his own life. “I realised not long after Thor told me about your supposed visit to Alfheim.”

Loki grumbled something about Thor ruining everything as usual but Cinderella shook her head and clarified that it had not been the older prince’s fault. Of course, talk of a wedding had thrown her - for one brief moment she had hoped that it was true but knew better than to expect something so fortunate happening to someone like her - but it was from the guards she’d overheard talk of executions. That, combined with news from Brynjar of the plan moving forward, had made her certain.

If Brynjar was acting faster than expected then it was reasonable to assume she was no longer needed. Her brother was sidestepping the part of his plan that would have made a change in power appear legitimate - namely her marriage to Loki and her ascension to the throne - and was instead relying on pure force to make his claim. No longer necessary to the smooth running of his schemes, Cinderella had decided to step aside while she still could.

She knew Brynjar better than anyone else in the world and understood that, when he had succeeded in his revolution, he would have no reason to keep her around. The life to which she had become accustomed was to be ripped from beneath her feet and there was every chance that Cinderella would have been exiled to some village in the outermost parts of the kingdom, left to die alone and estranged from the little family that remained.

There was no way that she was going to allow that to happen.

By the time she had finished explaining all of that, much of which you weren’t entirely convinced by but had no legitimate reason to doubt other than your own dislike of the woman, you finally reached the royal safe rooms.

"Where’s the entrance?“ Cinderella asked, staring up and down the empty hallway in confusion.

"Hidden, of course,” you grumbled, setting Loki down on the floor against the cool wall. You crouched down in front of him, your gut wrenching at scary contrast between his sunken eyes and the utter paleness of his skin. Brushing his hair away from his sweaty face, you rested your forehead against his and whispered, “You know what I need to break the charm.”

Loki nodded and pulled out the blade which Cinderella had handed him before. His hand was shaking as he drew the tip across his other palm, pressing deeply enough to draw blood but not enough to be a serious injury. He already had enough of those and you weren’t convinced that his body could take much more. He handed you the blade, it’s edge now dripping with his blood, and nodded, no longer able to speak.

You brushed your lips against his and rose to your feet with such haste that the entire corridor appeared to shift. Blinking your disorientation away, you stumbled across the hallway and ran your hands across the length of the wall until you felt a small breeze. It was barely anything, could almost be mistaken for your own breath against your arm, but it was there and that was all the indication you needed.

Mumbling a few ancient words beneath your breath, you plunged the dagger into a tiny hole in the wall and prayed that it would work. Loki had given his blood willingly and you had spoken the correct incantation. They were the only two stipulations of the counter enchantment necessary to open the door from the outside - it could be opened from within at any time but only those with royal blood were able to gain access during a lockdown.

Thanking every deity you could name, the door sprung open just enough to let you know it had worked. You grabbed Loki, baring his weight alone, and helped him into the room. You had barely stepped foot into the grand safe room when Thor appeared at your side to take his brother from you. He carred him (against his wishes) over to a comfortable resting place for the healer to begin work on his worst injuries.

While Thor did that, you gave your graces to the king and queen who were respectively eyeing you with distrust and gratitude. Odin seemed to brighten when he saw Cinderella in step behind you, much to your annoyance. Frigga, on the other hand, called you over to her specifically and took your hands in hers. “Thank you, my dear child, for protecting my son. It appears I am in your debt.”

"That’s not necessary, my queen. It’s my duty, my honour, to keep Loki… To keep the prince safe.“

Frigga smiled, the most soft and genuine smile you thought you’d ever seen. "I have heard much about you, Y/N. From both of my sons and those around the court, alike. You truly are quite the legend.”

Shaking your head, you insisted, “I am nothing special, your majesty.”

"Nonsense. Loki would only ever give his heart to the most deserving, which you have proven over and over to be true. You will make him a wonderful wife. Of course I know of my son’s intentions, Y/N.“ Frigga chuckled at your look of panic and rested her hand on your shoulder as she stood. "Whilst the same cannot be said of his father, Loki and I are very close. You make him very happy indeed and I could wish for nothing more.”

The queen excused herself to go and speak with Odin and the few council members given the privilege of taking refuge (also known as hiding) from the battle. It wasn’t worth your life to try and listen to their conversation so you made an attempt to comfort Loki but were turned away by the short tempered healer.

Left alone, you sat staring at the walls of the safe room, your thoughts wandering until Cinderella took a seat beside you. “You see it, don’t you?”

"What?“

"The king. The council. They’ve done nothing but scowl at you since you arrived. Given their way, they’d throw you back out in the chaos and let you die. Hel, they would probably kill you themselves if there was a way of avoiding your blood on the furniture.”

"Whatever point you are trying to make, Cinderella, please get to it fast,“ you hissed, your temper failing. Whilst, yes, she had helped you to save Loki you still didn’t trust the wannabe princess. You wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt but knowing she had two daggers concealed beneath the layers of her skirt - and also knowing from firsthand experience that she would not hesitate to use them on you - it made trusting her intentions that much harder.

"I am just repeating what I’ve said all along. They will never accept you, Y/N. Just look at them. Here they are, some of Asgard’s greatest warriors and leaders, hiding from glorious battle. At least Thor has the integrity to admit that he would rather be out there fighting and dying than be locked away in this room. Odin doesn’t care about integrity or honour. The only thing that he values is his control.

"You are a danger to that, Y/N. He’s seen it already, the way that the stories of your brave deeds have changed the court’s perceptions. The great king of Asgard being undermined by the reputation of an insignificant servant. He would kill you before letting you damage his image any further. Tell me, how are the people supposed to trust a ruler that sends others to their deaths without a care in the world? Do you not think that it’s due time for a change?”

"He’s not perfect but he is an effective king,“ you insisted, although the truth of her words had hit a little too close to home. "If you are trying to turn my loyalties away from the throne, you will not succeed.”

Cinderella was hardly surprised, if perhaps a little disappointed in your dogmatic belief in the old ways of the kingdom. Playing with the edge of her skirt, she said, “That is a shame, Y/N. Truly. With you on our side, this could have been so much easier.”

In the same moment that you realised just how big a mistake you had made in giving Cinderella an inch of trust, she thrust a dagger into your side and yanked you by the hair towards the door. Your scream silenced the room, turning all eyes in the room towards you and Cinderella.

Too fast for anyone to react, Brynjar and his men burst into the safe room and had weapons trained on everyone in the blink of an eye. With a warning that the slightest movement would result in death (a threat that all were sure they’d follow through with), Brynjar turned to his sister and said, “You did well, for once, Cindy. Now we can end their reign and usher in the new order. I knew you’d be useful, after all.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: blood, Brynjar is a dick but nothing happens.

"If I didn't know better, Cindy, I'd think that you didn't want to kill her," Brynjar scoffed, grabbing your jaw and examining your face. You snarled your teeth at him, even going so far as to try and bite the finger that got too close to your lips, but it did no good. His fingers dug so hard into your skin that you were sure that (assuming you survived this) there would be dark marks tomorrow.

"You'd have me take her life now?"

Brynjar roughly tilted your head to the side, examining the faded marks that scattered the length of your neck, then shook his head. "There is no need now, I suppose. The trickster was correct; the people of this pitiful kingdom will accept us far more welcomingly if she is still alive."

"She has a name," you hissed, shoving your hand against his chest to push him away. You hit the wall with a thud and drew your hands over your wound, pressing down despite the pain to try and halt the bleeding.

"And a temper, so it seems," Brynjar smirked, stretching out in Odin's throne. After he and his men had forced entry into the safe room - aided by Cinderella, who had disabled the worst of the protective spells from within - they had backed the royals into a corner with ease. The guards had stood no chance against the surprise attack and were all shot down before they'd had time to draw their swords.

Thor and Odin, the greatest warriors that the realm had seen in an age, had underestimated Brynjar's power. He managed to somehow avoided the worst of Thor's attacks and captured Mjolnir in a chest, certainly stolen from the hoards of the great dwarves. Without his weapon, it still took six of Brynjar's men to hold the prince down. Odin, on the other hand, took only three; once Gungnir had been snatched, the king was defenceless.

Frigga had moved to fight but held back when she realised it would have meant leaving Loki - barely clinging on to consciousness by now - vulnerable. She had a fire in her eyes that raged with the power of fifty men but protecting her son was more important than anything else. The throne was worthless if it meant watching Loki die. So, she stayed by his side and protected him with her own magic to keep up the work of the fallen healer.

The royals were led somewhere else in the castle, you were not told where, to await their execution at dawn next. It would be a public affair, in front of the largest crowd that had ever gathered in the city, for all to see how weak and pathetic their monarchy truly was.

Instead of being put out of your misery, or taken away to await your own execution, Brynjar had kept you in his company. He took joy from watching you suffer, a slow and painful end for the woman that had almost brought his plan to a stop on multiple occasions. In his eyes, it was nothing more than you deserved.

And, of course, instead of leaving you to die in peace, he intended to drag out every second of your suffering.

"Tell me, wench, why do you do this to yourself? You must see that these great men are not worth your blood," Brynjar said, his disgust for the royals evident in his acidic tone. "They put up no fight. Without their fancy weapons and soldiers to protect them, they were powerless to our forces. How can you believe that they will lead our great civilisation into a better time?"

"They are good people. More deserving of the crown that you will ever be."

"Of course, with their legendary valour and honour. True to the ones they love and never swayed by a pretty face. Oh, wait." He looked over to Cinderella, who at least had the decency to look a little bit ashamed. "That's right. Both Odin and Loki had their heads turned by my sister. Tell me, wench, how can men so easily led be left in charge as something as important as running a kingdom and protecting their people? You would never believe the secrets they divulged after bedding her."

"Enough, brother," Cinderella sighed. "You see now that I spoke the truth. Nothing will turn Y/N's loyalties."

His boots clanking against the floor, Brynjar strode over to where you stood and admired you with hungry eyes. "A real shame. It would have been a pleasure to have you sit by my feet while I ruled. Such a pretty addition you would have made to the throne room, indeed. Perhaps with fewer marks on your delicate face. Or at least only ones made by me."

At his side, Brynjar's hand had barely twitched before you kneed him in the groin. The swift and sudden reflex sent another debilitating wave of pain through your body but it was more than worth it. "If you so much as think of touching me again, you will regret it."

Brynjar had you pressed against the wall, his dagger at your throat, before the guards responded to his yell and came barrelling in to the safe room. He drew the cold metal edge slowly across your skin with just enough pressure to make you uncertain whether this would be your last breath or not. Still, you held his iron gaze and refused to show weakness, even though you were clearly at a disadvantage.

"I can see why the trickster likes you," Brynjar conceded, returning his dagger to its hold. "I won't kill you today. Take her to the dungeons."

"Brother, surely she should see a healer first?"

"No need. The cells are enchanted to prevent death by such injuries. One of Odin's great ideas to make his prisoners suffer more than they already were. And if she dies... Well. I doubt anyone will mourn the loss." Dismissing both you and Cinderella, Brynjar waves his hand in the air and took his seat in Odin's throne one again. "Take her away."

Despite being too weak to even walk unaided, you were escorted to the dungeon by a troop of six armed men. They threw you haphazardly in to a dingy little cell where the lights were too bright and the air too cold. Curled up in the corner of your cell, you stopped fighting the pain and let it tear through your body in the hope that it may finally just tear you apart and end it all.

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you heard light footsteps coming down the hallway. The voice you heard was familiar but you were too exhausted to lift your head and see who it belonged to. What was the point anyway?

"You're wanted upstairs. There's a group of rowdy townsfolk gathering at the servants' door demanding answers."

The man outside your cell sounded confused. "I was ordered by Brynjar not to leave the wench. There are plenty of others to deal with angry salesmen."

"Well, these are new orders," the familiar voice insisted. You knew you knew that voice but your brain was too foggy to focus on placing it. Sleep was calling and you were becoming more inclined to listen to it.

"Who are you? From which faction do you come?" When no immediate answer came the man's way, he drew his sword on the newcomer. "If you do not answer my questions, I will have no choice but to treat you as the enemy. If that is the case, then I will have to kill you."

There was a loud thud as the guardsman fell to the ground, whacked around the head by the woman - definitely a woman, you decided - who no longer had the patience to deal with his weak threats. "Men," she groaned. "It's all talk with them."

Stepping into your line of sight, your eyes widened. Even disguised under thick layers of clothing, lugging around armour meant for a man twice her size, you'd know her anywhere. There was only one person that could convey such affectionate contempt for you in this way. "Inga?"

"You truly are dreadful at this hero lark, sister," Inga sighed, pulling off her helmet and swinging her hair over her shoulder with a confidence to match the Valkyries of legend. Stabbing her trusty dagger into the small panel that controlled the force field around your cell, Inga jumped up and crossed the small space to where you were slumped.

Pushing the wet hair from your face, Inga pulled you into a tight embrace. She kissed your cheek as she pulled away, shaking her head at the multitude of injuries that you'd managed to accumulate in the day since you'd seen each other last. "You make me wonder why I trust you with anything important."

Groaning as she helped you on to your feet, biting back a scream as her hand fell upon the bleeding wound in your side, you asked, "What are you doing here?"

Inga felt your warm blood on her hand and, ignoring your question completely, perched you back against the wall. She tore a strip of fabric from the bottom of her tunic and replaced the sodden one which had you'd used to hastily cover your wound. There were no signs that the bleeding was slowing and you knew, even with your complete lack of medical expertise, that Cinderella had hit something important.

"Saving you, obviously," Inga said, pulling the fabric strip tightly into place. She was no healer but, with three very adventurous and easily injured children, it was the best that you'd be able to find on short notice. Once again lifting you onto your feet, adjusting her hold so the hilt of her sword didn't dig into your side, she explained, "By the time we got to Nevarth, the entire rebel forces had already moved out. We realised what that meant and knew that you and Loki wouldn't be prepared to face an army on both sides."

"You were right."

"I always am. We rode fast and managed to jump a small group that were holding in the rear. Took their weapons and armour then made our way inside. Only we were too late. By the time we'd made it into the palace, news of Brynjar's victory was already spreading through the household. I told you not to trust that bitch."

"Don't forget your dagger," you said, stumbling as you stepped down from the prison cell. You stretched out your arm to pull her blade from the wall but even that small movement put too much of a strain on your side.

Inga leant around you and, with a little bit of a jiggle, pulled the blade free. Holding it in her hand as she helped you hobble through the prison, she said, "You should have listened to me, Y/N. I warned you about Cinderella."

"She saved our lives, Inga."

"Yeah. But then she stabbed you in the back. Literally."

"My abdomen. Not my back."

"Same difference, damn you! You are such a fool, sister. I warned you... Y/N, hey come on," she said, suddenly feeling your weight double in her arms. Inga held you up against a stone pillar and shook your shoulders, beyond relieved when your eyes fluttered open once again. "We can't go on with you hanging off my side like this."

You shook your head, the simple action making you feel even more groggy than you had before. Whilst the dungeons were normally dimly lit and a bit fuzzy (the magic that maintained the force fields around the cells had that effect on people sometimes as it was supposed to keep the prisoners docile), you could barely keep your attention on anything. The small details carved into the stones were completely unreadable and even the more obvious things - like the steps beneath your feet - were just completely out of focus.

Resting your head on Inga's shoulder as she guided you up the stairs, you insisted, "We have to save Loki and the others. I can't leave them..."

"Y/N, I came to the palace to save you. Not the kingdom. I love you, sister, and I cannot let you die."

"I love him, Inga. How is risking my life for him any different than what you are doing now for me?" You missed your footing and smashed your knees on the next step, a terrible crunching sound echoing around the prison quarters as the bones cracked. Still, though, despite the universe trying its best to convince you otherwise, you were determined to carry on and face Brynjar.

Inga disregarded your comparison completely and flung you over her shoulder as she would have done were it Ander, Kol or Sigrid. "I'm sorry, Y/N. You aren't in your right mind. We are going to find a healer. Leave it to the guards and those that are actually trained for this sort of situation."

Your continuous arguments stalled when you caught sight of a familiar face. Hair whiter than you remembered but still no less beautiful. An expression just as kind as before, a wise and mischievous glint in their eyes. A genuine, if slightly concerned smile. You knew that face but before you could place it, she was gone.

Whacking Inga on the back so hard that it made her stumble, you said, "Did you see that? The woman."

"It's a busy palace. There are women everywhere," Inga said, stepping out of the dungeons and into one of the servant corridors. She asked you for directions towards the nearest exit, ready to take your answer with a pinch of salt either way, and sighed at your repeated mention of this mystery woman.

Setting you down, she held you up against the wall by the shoulders and looked you straight in the eyes. It was difficult for you to focus on her face, the room shifting back and forth beneath your feet and your mind distracted by the familiar face you'd seen down in the prison. Inga was calling your name but her frantic words floated completely over your head. You were too focused on the shadow hiding behind the pillar on the corner.

Shrugging Inga off of you, pressing a hand to her chest when she tried to block your way, you stumbled down the hallway. At some point, you fell to the ground but continued dragging yourself forward by the nails on your fingers, driven by a hope so overwhelming that it almost made you forget the pain.

It was probably a hallucination. A result of immense blood loss, a precursor to unconsciousness. That was the logical explanation. And yet... You were so sure that you weren't imaging this. There was no reason for your brain to conjure her image on your death bed. No. She was real. She had to be.

On your broken knees before her, convinced that she was literally glowing with the purest white light that you'd ever seen, you breathed, "You're real?"

"Of course I'm real, dear," she said, crouching down beside you and motioning for Inga to come over. Looking up at your sister, the woman smiled and introduced herself. "I am Altheda."

Inga's eyes widened as she exclaimed, "Like from the stories?"

"That depends on which stories you've heard," Altheda said, resting her hand carefully on your shoulder. A warm, tingling wave spread slowly down your back, all the way down to your toes, before concentrating around your wound. It was as strange a feeling as when Loki used his magic but this was so much more powerful. Just that simple touch was as effective as an entire team of healers.

Altheda met your gaze, silently asking for permission, before lifting up the bottom of your shirt to assess the state of your wound. She pressed her palm over the bloodstained strip of fabric wrapped around your waist by Inga and a bright pink shimmer lit the dark corner of the palace hallway. Altheda then untied the makeshift bandage and smiled to herself.

The bleeding had stopped and the skin around it had begun to stretch to form a cover over the wound. Incredibly, you hadn't felt a thing. Not even a single twinge of pain. Only a general feeling of calm and a wonderful lack of tension throughout your entire body, as if you had just returned from a trip to the relaxing springs in the mountain.

You moved to stand but Altheda held you back, shaking her head. "You may want to take it gently, dear. The magic holding your wound together is fragile. It's only a temporary fix and you will have to listen to your sister sooner or later and get yourself to a healer."

"How do you know each other?" Inga asked, looking between you and the older woman with a mix of complete and utter confusion and awe. "Sister, that's Altheda. The benevolent queen from father's stories. By the norns, I thought... Well, in all honesty, I believed you long passed."

"I confess, there are times when I wish that I had passed also. It has been a long life, for sure. I have long since hoped to return to Alfheim and spend my last years in peace but until peace reigns in Asgard such dreams will remain as such; only dreams."

"As much as I appreciate your kindness, is now really the time for this?" you asked anxiously. You couldn't deny that you were interested in hearing Altheda's stories but, as your strength returned, your desire to go and save Loki also grew. Hiding around in the shadows and discussing the truth of old stories could surely wait.

Inga on the other hand had no such desires and instead pushed, asking again how you knew an Elven queen of old, her intrigue getting the better of her. It wasn't often that Inga indulged her curiosity but clearly this was too much of a mystery to let pass. "Seriously, sister. What circumstances could ever lead to you knowing one another?"

Altheda smiled, patting you on the shoulder as she explained, "I met your sister on the night of the ball. Such a wonderful evening until the attack, of course. In my age I have developed a habit of losing my way. Y/N guided me back and for her kindness I fixed a little problem of hers. Now I intend to help fix another little problem of yours."

"But why? Why would you help us?"

"I suppose you could say it's my duty as her fairy god mother. Come my dears. Y/N is right. We must act now before it is too late."


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Major character death

They were alive. But for how long they would stay that way, you weren’t entirely sure. 

It was a strange sight to behold, the royals in a perfect line on their knees before their grand kingdom. You had never seen them in such a terrible state. Black and blue, each wore their bruises like a second skin covering them from head to toe. Brynjar’s supporters had not relented once throughout the night and had clearly taken every opportunity to strike a blow (figuratively and literally) at the crown.

Lesser men would have long since given up the fight but it was obvious that, even in their beaten states, the royals were far from submitting to Brynjar. They showed their strength and determination in completely different ways but it was as plain as day for all to see.

Thor thrashed against the shackles that held him down, anger in his eyes, brewing with the strength of a great storm. The chains that bound him were perhaps the thickest you’d ever seen, reserved for restraining the wild and most dangerous beasts of the kingdom. Even they with such incredible strength strained against his efforts. However, every time the prince got close to snapping one of the many chains that held him, one of the many guards assigned to him would clobber him around the back of the head to discourage Thor from attempting any further escape.

Beside the prince, also bound and centred for all the see, knelt Odin. To add insult to injury, the soldier tasked with guarding the king held Gungnir against the back of his neck, practically begging for an excuse to use the famous spear against its previous owner. For all the king’s boiling anger and hatred, in that moment he looked nothing more than an old and brittle man. Without his armour, he commanded little of the strength for which he was most famous and all the rage in the world did little to make him appear a true threat.

On the complete opposite side of the spectrum sat Frigga. Chained and on her knees like the others, the queen somehow managed to maintain the air of strength that her husband did not. She held her head high, burying all of her emotions deep beneath her calm outer shell. Beaten as she was, sporting perhaps the deepest gashes on her skin due to a lack of protective armour over her now terribly torn golden dress, she still shone with the gentle light of the stars. Beauty and grace in the face of her impending death, Frigga held her attention on her youngest son, her attention devoted entirely to keeping him safe. No matter how much the guards at her side ordered her to stop, she continued to mumble some kind of protective chant to keep Loki with her and stop him from slipping away.

It wasn’t easy for the queen. With every passing second, Loki was slipping closer to death. There was not a single stretch of skin unmarked by bruises or cuts. He was chained like the others but no guards bothered to stand by him for he was little more than a heap on the ground. Someone had obviously tried to set the prince on his knees but it had ended with him doubled over, so in pain that he drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness as if they were one state. It was clear that Loki had no idea what was going on around him, too far gone to have any control over his thoughts or actions. If not for Frigga’s constant charms, he would long since have crossed to Valhalla.

Altheda held you back, her hand gentle but firm on your shoulder as you peered around the column. You wanted nothing more than to run out and hold the prince in your arms, however selfish a desire that may have been. You knew you should be grateful to Altheda for preventing you from giving in to those stupid desires but couldn’t help wish to be there with Loki. Especially if these were to be his final moments, he shouldn’t have to face them alone.

"So many came,“ Inga said, her interest more on the crowd in the palace court than the royals. The mix of people present told an interesting story, for sure. There were those who had come out of morbid curiosity; an execution was a rare thing on Asgard and satisfied a very particular taste when it came to entertainment. Others, a small but rowdy proportion of the crowd, had been driven by a genuine hate for the royals. They cheered and chanted as the guards beat Thor back into place, finally seeing the justice they believed they were owed.

And then there were the rest of the onlookers, there out of fear of what might happen should they not show their faces. If Brynjar could do this to the royals then there was no telling what he might do to ordinary people with no way of protecting themselves. Self preservation was, as always, one of the most useful traits in a population that a militant dictator could hope for. It was so easy to manipulate. So easy to control. When people were scared, they would agree to just about anything. Even the murders of their beloved leaders.

"There are at least thirty men,” Altheda announced, pointing out the ones you’d missed; they were stationed in the shadows where no one should have been able to see them. You didn’t question how Altheda had noticed them, simply putting it down to skills learned during her legendary reign as the strongest and bravest queen that Alfheim had ever seen. “We cannot take them down alone.”

"I have an idea,“ you whispered, tearing your gaze from Loki’s broken form and turning to face the other women.

"Let me guess,” Inga said, interrupting you before you had the chance to say anything. “It’s terribly dangerous and I’m not going to like it.”

You smiled tightly in agreement. “You really aren’t.”

Just as you finished explaining your plan to the others, Brynjar stepped out into the open to a combination of delighted and fearful cheers. He was closely followed by Cinderella, who maintained a permanent distance of ten steps behind him (both far enough away to show that he was in charge but also eliminating the opportunity for her to stab him in the back should the urge arise).

Both strode around wearing the most extravagant drapes, taken from the royal tailors’ stockroom. Brynjar wore a thick, crimson fur cape over rich navy shirt and dark trousers. He bounded around behind the royals, swinging his sword around and smirking every time he “accidentally” added another wound to their already extensive collection.

Meanwhile, Cinderella stood at the side wearing a brighter shade of blue, almost turquoise in colour. The flowing fabric wrapped around her, her figure highlighted by the sweeping patterns of shining silver embroidery that ran down the entire length of the beautiful gown. With her platinum blonde hair swept up into an intricate set of braids, topped by one of Frigga’s most intricately created crowns, she could so easily be mistaken for a true queen. It was just a shame you knew better. 

Once again, Altheda held you back and stopped you from running head first into danger. Instead, you three remained in the shadows as Brynjar finally stopped showing off and stepped forward to address the kingdom.

"Behold the protectors of the realms,“ he said, gesturing to the royals. Thor and Odin snarled at the traitorous man and while Frigga kept her expression completely neutral all could feel the hatred she harboured towards Brynjar. "On their knees, weak and helpless without their legendary armies or weapons. You’d have them rule you and lead you to ruin. They have blinded you to the truth; you have become servants and slaves to their egos. How many have died because of their pointless, private agendas? We say no more.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his rhetoric but before your eyes the assembled crowd were already beginning to warm up to him. Even those only present out of fear were beginning to wonder if there was a slither of sense in his words. There was no way that this could be allowed to continue; left much longer and even if you killed Brynjar you’d have a riot on your hands.

Squeezing Inga’s hand, you whispered, “I love you, sister.”

Before she had the chance to stop you, you gathered your courage and strolled out from your hiding place. You walked straight over to Brynjar, whose mouth literally fell open at the sight of you. You couldn’t decide whether he was furious or beyond impressed that you were standing before him once again.

"Unbelievable,“ he muttered, drawing the sword from his belt. In no mood for talking anymore, finally realising just how big a danger to the success of his rule you actually were, he waved a hand in the air to stop his guards from coming any closer. "She is mine to kill.”

Much to everyone’s surprise - and a little of your own, to be completely honest - you knelt down on one knee and bowed your head to Brynjar. Keeping your head low, you asked, “Would you really strike down an unarmed woman on her knees without provocation?”

"If she was as troublesome as you,“ Brynjar grumbled. He knew exactly how tenuous his control was at the moment. It was one thing to murder the royals whom he had just overthrown but it was another thing entirely to murder a seemingly innocent servant.

With a deep sigh, Brynjar poked your shoulder with the tip of his sword and huffed, "Get up. I know what you are doing. You think that this display of defiance will change anything? The age of Odin is over and you, along with whatever pathetic standing you think you have as a symbol of loyalty, will die with it.”

"Then deal me my punishment and be over with it,“ you said. "Show your resolve. Or do you need someone else to do it for you instead?”

Brynjar narrowed his eyes at the challenge, his grip tightening around his sword. You watched his muscles tense the moment before he stepped forward and twisted out of his grip, his blade sliding past your side and simply catching the edge of your shirt rather than being the fatal blow he had intended.

In the second he and those around you took to recover from the shock, you pulled a sword from the nearest guard’s belt and swung it at Brynjar. His blade met yours with an almighty clash. Unfortunately for you, Brynjar had years of experience handling the weapon and a considerable amount more strength so he was able to push you over with ease.

Rolling out from under him, you kicked his skin and drew your sword across his thigh as you jumped to your feet. Shuffling out of his reach, you looked around in a panic to search for some potential advantage over the man. You were met with few options.

It didn’t matter, though, because in your periphery you could see Inga and Altheda rushing out from the shadows to free the royals. Altheda bore the most incredible blade, its shining length covered with intricate designs and what were almost certainly magical runes to channel her power during battle. The guards around Thor stood little chance against her and she took them down in the blink of an eye.

While she held off the other guards, Inga struggled with Thor’s chains, eventually giving him enough movement to free himself of the bonds. The very first thing he did was stretch out his arm to call Mjolnir but his trusty hammer did not come for it was still trapped in Brynjar’s enchanted chest - which currently resided deep within the palace vaults for safe keeping.

Shaking his head, Thor bent down and pulled the swords from the hands of two men at his feet. The prince set his sights on Brynjar, who was stalking into a corner like a hunter finally about to catch his prey.

"Surrender and I shall allow you to live,“ Thor said, grabbing Brynjar by the shoulder and pulling him away from where you were pressed against the wall. The prince stood between you both, acting as a living shield and staring the shorter man down.

Instead of accepting the prince’s offer as any sane man should have done, Brynjar instead lunged at Thor and swung his sword high in the air. He had lost all manner of sense, charging like a drunken bilgesnipe. Brynjar was driven only by anger now, his higher functions losing out to the deep hatred that inexorably twisted his mind.

Thor blocked his attack with ease, barely breaking a sweat as he shoved the man aside. As Thor stepped in for a retaliation, you stepped around the prince and advanced on his side. Your swords pierced his chest simultaneously and there was a sickening sound as you withdrew the blades and Brynjar fell to the ground.

You barely had time to feel relieved as Brynjar’s men jumped into action to avenge their fallen leader. Thor fought by your side with an unexpected vigour considering everything that he had been put through and you worked together to take down the entire group.

Looking around, you saw Inga helping Frigga to her feet while Odin, already freed, took out his frustration and humiliation on the nearest targets without discrimination. Altheda’s actions were still quite the wonder to behold, smooth and powerful like some kind of dancer, although she was clearly tiring after having brought down almost two thirds of Brynjar’s men on her own.

"Do not worry about me!” Altheda yelled as you took a step forward to help her. “Stop Cinderella!”

There she was, in the shadows, sneaking away from the carnage. The moment that her brother had fallen, Cinderella had known her time was up. Lacking the dignity or honour of the other rebels, she was prepared to run and leave everyone else to their fates to save herself. After everything she’d done, you couldn’t let her get away without punishment.

Your muscles were beyond heavy as you raced after her, you caught the edge of her thick cloak and pulling her away from the door. She turned on her heels and met your steel gaze with a remarkably vulnerable one of her own. “Please, Y/N.”

Shaking your head, you said, “No. This is over. Turn yourself in. The king will treat you with clemency.”

"We both know that’s a lie. Even Odin cannot ignore my true colours any longer. He will have me executed. There is no comfortable cell in prison for me. If I stay here, I will die. Let me leave with my life and I swear you will never see me again.“

"That’s not good enough. Not after everything that you’ve done.”

"Don’t make me force my hand, Y/N. I am leaving this place with my life with or without your blessings.“ Cinderella pulled her trusty dagger from beneath her skirt, holding it out between you to stop you from coming any closer. "I am truly sorry for everything that I put you through but you must see, it wasn’t me! Everything I did, I did for Brynjar.”

"Give yourself up then,“ you insisted, lowering your sword ever so slightly. You didn’t want to believe her, not after everything she’d done to you, but there was a wobble in her voice that made you truly wonder. You’d seen firsthand how despicable Brynjar could be. Was it really such a stretch to believe that Cinderella had been in no better a situation with her brother than you had been?

Searching her face for any sign of deceit, you said, "If that is the truth, then the court will understand. They will spare you your life.”

"No they won’t, Y/N. You are the only one that saw my brother’s true colours. The court knows nothing of him and everything they thought they knew of me is a lie. If you make me stay and face them, you are sending me to my death. No matter my motivations, I was a part of this revolt. I have no hope of survival here.“

The silence as you thought this through weighed heavily on you both, at great odds with the battle that had been raging moments before. The rest of the rebels were dead. You could hear the crowd chanting, "Long live the king.” It was over and surely enough blood had been spent. Very slowly, you dropped your sword and let it hang by your side.

It had been an easy choice, really. You couldn’t bring yourself to kill her or hand her over and watch her meet her death here at court. It would have made you no better than her or the others. Shaking your head, you sighed, “Just go. Leave and never come back here. Get passage to Vanaheim and start again.”

"Thank you, Y/N,“ Cinderella whispered, unclasping the cape around her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground. She stepped back into the shadows, ready to disappear into the madness of the crowds in the court below when Thor shouted her name.

She froze as the prince stormed towards her. You yelled for him to stand down but the prince ignored your pleas, taking the laws and accompanying punishments of the realm a little more seriously than you. As he pushed past you to grab her, Cinderella made one last ditch attempt to stop him by flinging her dagger in his direction.

In her panic, it missed him completely and Thor took that as justification to kill her on the spot. He grabbed her shoulder with one of his large hands and thrust his sword straight into her chest. It hit her heart and her body sagged instantly.

You closed your eyes, biting down on your lip as Thor withdrew his sword and wiped it clean on his trousers. He rest a hand on your back and said, "It’s over now, Y/N.”

"I told her that she could leave with her life.“

"That was not your decision to make.”

"She deserved better.“

"She got what she deserved, Y/N. Come. We should leave.”

You looked up, the haze of battle fading and thoughts of Loki returning full force. “Where is Loki? Is he okay?”

Not waiting for Thor’s answer, you sprinted over to where Frigga was holding Loki’s broken body. Crouching down by their sides, you glanced at the queen too scared to ask the question. Frigga lifted her hand to your face and smiled tightly, finally acknowledging the excruciating level of pain that she was in.

"Loki will be alright,“ she said, her hands glowing gold as she continued to wrap her magic around him like a healing blanket. His breathing had already begun to even out and Frigga’s magic was visibly aiding the prince’s own healing factor in dealing with the most superficial of his injuries. The pale skin which you loved so much was starting to reappear beneath the fading bruises and you knew with the assistance of the healers he would be back on his feet in a matter of days.

Frigga shared your delight and matched your quivering smile, smoothing the prince’s dark hair as she used to do when he was but a child. "I fear he will be upset to have missed out on all the action but will be relieved to know that you are safe. If you’ll excuse me, I think my son and I could benefit from a visit to the healers.”

You nodded, offering your hand to help her to her feet but she managed perfectly well on her own. Loki draped in her arms, Frigga and the others (Thor, Odin and Altheda deep in conversation about something or another - with a scarily large number of glances sent your way) disappeared into the palace to visit whichever of the healers had survived the rebellion.

Spotting Inga sat on the steps, you sat down beside her and bumped her with your shoulder. Her voice strained, she said softly, “You should have killed Cinderella when you had the chance, sister.”

"Perhaps, but what does it matter now?“ you asked. "We won. Asgard is safe and everything can return to normal. Right? Inga?”

The question had barely left your lips when you felt Inga sag against your side. Your heart plummeted in your chest and your breathing was so shallow that you barely took in any air. The world spun around you as all your carefully built walls fell down and your emotions began to tear through you like a raging tsunami.

You shuffled beneath Inga, trying and failing to prop her up. Cradling her in your arms, your shaking hands pushing the tangled hair from her face, you pleaded for her to come back to you. Her shirt was soaked red, warm and clinging to the gaping wound in her side. You tried to cover it, applying pressure in a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but it did no good.

Pulling Inga into a tight embrace, rocking gently on the spot as you held her tightly, you heard something drop from her hand. Bouncing down the steps, eventually coming to a sharp rest at the bottom, was Cinderella’s dagger - the one she’d thrown at Thor - coated in your sister’s blood.


	18. Chapter 18

"Sigrid, get back here this minute!“ you yelled, using your best parent voice as you chased your niece around your chambers. She was running around in half a dress - a cream silk undershirt and a petticoat which was now nowhere near as perfectly crisp as it had been moments before - squealing in joy as you stumbled after her.

"You have to catch me first but you’re too slow! You’ll never get me!”

You narrowed your eyes at the challenge, diving over the bed and stretching out to catch her as she ran past. She almost slipped from your grasp but you pulled her backwards and trapped her in your arms, tickling her into submission. Sigrid thrashed her limbs around, laughing so hard that she could barely breathe, until you finally relented your assault.

A loud knock sounded at your door and, with a sudden burst of energy, Sigrid jumped from your lap and ran over to the door to find out who it was. She reached up to grab the handle, barely tall enough to manage, and pulled with all her might. Even with her full strength, she only managed to pull it open a slither - although it did give her just enough of a view to see the face of your visitor.

“You can’t come in,” she sung, squeezing her face through the small gap between the door and frame. You could only imagine how ridiculous Sigrid looked from the front, but she certainly looked crazy from behind. Still singing, she said, “It’s bad luck.”

"Is that Loki?“ you asked. Even just saying his name brought a smile to your face and, although being a love struck fool was embarrassing, you didn’t care. Having his love was worth more than any of the finest fabrics or extravagant meals that the palace had to offer.

Sigrid looked over her shoulder, cheeks rosy pink and her intricate braids starting to come loose, and shook her head. She made a face, all squished up, and said, "Nope. It’s Kol and Ander.”

"Let them in then, Siggy,“ you said, grabbing a thin dressing gown to cover yourself. "It’s only bad luck to see the bride before a wedding if it’s the groom. Since I’m not marrying either Kol or Ander, I think it’s alright for them to come inside, don’t you agree?”

"You’d be lucky to marry us,“ Ander said, rolling his eyes at Sigrid’s chaotic state as he stepped in to your room. You’d never realised beforehand but ever since you’d taken charge of caring for the children you’d noticed just how protective he was over his little sister. He almost never left her side and was always there to watch over her. Sometimes that meant protecting her from the harsh words of noble children that thought themselves above the daughter of a seamstress. Other times it simply meant making sure she looked her best or making her smile.

Bending down, Ander pulled her hair free of the pins. He then picked her up and carried her over to the chaise lounge to redo it for her. Slowly and gently running his fingers through the tangled mess, he expertly weaved a few strands back together until Sigrid was once again presentable.

Kol tried to perch on the edge but Sigrid kicked him in the side, too comfortable with her legs stretched out in front of her to give up the space. Instead of shoving her aside and taking the place anyway - a course of action he had obviously considered - Kol wandered over and sat beside you, snuggling up against you. You placed a kiss on the top of his head and held him tightly.

"You both look so handsome,” you told the boys, honestly amazed that anyone had managed to convince them to wear such rich and formal clothing. Decked out in frankly adorable green velvet jackets, complete with ridiculously large shoulder pads and lapels edged with gold. Both proudly wore small ceremonial daggers which had been gifted to them by no other than Frigga herself.

"Not as pretty as I’ll look, though,“ Sigrid grinned, placing a sloppy kiss on Ander’s cheek as a thank you for fixing her hair. She jumped off the chaise lounge and sprinted over to where her dress was hung neatly over a chair. Pulling the dress by its hem, she spun around it circles laughing to herself as the cream fabric billowed around her.

Sigrid ignored your warnings to be careful, only stopping when she tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground with a crash. Kol was by her side before either you or Ander had gotten to your feet. He helped her up and checked her over in that quiet way of his, smiling over at you to let you know that she was alright.

Minding her hair - wary that Ander would probably tackle you if you messed up so much as a single hair of his beautiful creation - you slipped Sigrid’s dress over her head and pulled the laces up the back together. You then tied an emerald ribbon around her waist, finishing it with an over the top bow at her back as she’d accept nothing less. After all, as she so frequently reminded you, she was a princess of Asgard now and princesses only wore the most delicate lace and the "biggest, beautiful-est” bows they could find.

You looked at your niece and nephews, your heart swelling in your chest. After the hardships of the last year since Inga had died, you were relieved to see that they were still able to smile. Losing their mother wasn’t easy - it never could be - but they knew she’d died for the kingdom. It was enough for them to know she’d fought with honour and would have a place in the grand halls of Valhalla. She’d been given a beautiful funeral alongside everyone else that fell defending the kingdom on that fateful day and many across the kingdom had turned up to the grand affair.

There were times, though, when a dark cloud would hang over them, little Sigrid especially. The children would skulk around in the darkest corners, suffering in silence as those terrible thoughts weighed heavily on their young shoulders. It wasn’t easy to watch, knowing that you were in part to blame for their sadness. If you’d followed Inga’s advice and killed Cinderella the moment you’d seen her…

"Aunty?“ Ander said softly, perching on the edge of the bed by your side as Kol helped Sigrid with her makeup (she was most definitely not allowed to do it unsupervised after the absolutely disaster that had ensued last time). Tugging on the hem of his jacket to straighten it out, your eldest nephew said, "You shouldn’t be sad. Not today.”

"I’m fine.“

"No, you aren’t. You’re playing with her ring again.” He nodded at the simply golden band that hung around your neck on a delicate chain - Inga’s own wedding ring. You always kept it on your person without exception. Whenever you thought of your sister, you inadvertently ended up fiddling with her ring, a tick that Ander, by far the most observant of her children, had picked up on long ago.

Resting his hand over yours, Ander said, “She’d be so happy. And you should be too. Please don’t be sad. This is the start of a new life for us all.”

You pulled him into a tight hug, ignoring his protests that you’d mess up his jacket, and kissed the top of his head. “You are too wise, Ander.”

"Someone has to make up for your lack of smarts,“ he said, freeing himself from your grip and shooting you a smirk that was so reminiscent of the way Inga used to grin when she teased you as children. "Siggy. Kol. Let’s go. We should leave Aunty to finish getting ready. She can’t walk up the aisle in a dressing gown.”

You kissed each of the children as they left, slumping against the door as you pushed it shut. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, steadying yourself as your thoughts ran wild. Before you made any real headway, there was another knock on the door and you couldn’t help but laugh that one of the children had forgotten something. They truly were the most forgetful people in the world.

"What did you for… Altheda?“ you squealed, gripping the handle of the door so tightly in surprise that you managed to pull it free. Ushering her inside, happily letting her squash you in a crushing embrace, you asked, "What are you… Why are you here?”

"My dear, did you really think that I would be too busy to miss your wedding day?“

"I’m so glad you came.”

"I should think so too! After all we’ve been through, we’re practically family.“ A conspiratorial grin on her face, she raised her eyebrows and said, "Tell me, as family, about all the nonsense I’ve heard to do with this wedding.”

It had, of course, been Odin that had had a problem with you marrying his son. Despite defending the crown, being stabbed multiple times in the process, and losing your sister to the “good fight”, he still doubted your worth. For months, Thor and Frigga had been fighting your corner to try and convince Odin to give you and Loki his blessings. Their pleas had not been well received.

Eventually, though, you had worn Odin down. He agreed to sanction the marriage and to make you a princess of the realm, along with Inga’s children - whom you and Loki had adopted as your own, long before Odin approved the action. However, he had unsurprisingly set out a few caveats.

You and Loki could marry in the grand hall and even invite a few of your “common friends” but once you were officially wed you were not to stay in the capital. He would continue to pay you and Loki a royal allowance under the pretence of you being a liaison between the crown and those in the outer villages only if you stayed away from the palace.

Loki had all but given up his claim to the throne for you - not that it really mattered since that honour was always going to have fallen to Thor. He was giving up all the luxuries to which he had grown accustomed but solemnly swore no amount of material wealth would ever match up to being with you.

All in all, while it had taken a lot of negotiation, you had eventually ended up with a fair deal in your opinion. Everyone from Aumrauth was to turn out and Odin had invited only the necessary royals and nobles so as not to “offend” the less liberal of his court because obviously marrying a servant for true love was an absolutely disgraceful path for a prince to take.

Rolling her eyes throughout your explanation at the stupidity of Odin, remarking that things would have been far easier if you and Loki had simply moved back to Alfheim with her, Altheda asked, “I heard that you were going to be walking down the aisle alone? It may indeed be presumptuous of me, seeing how we are not blood, but it would be my honour to give you away. If you’ll grant an old woman’s wish, of course.”

Naturally, you accepted her offer. There was no one in all the realms that you’d rather have had walk you down the aisle.

As she had done so many months before, Altheda helped you prepare for the most important day of your life. She couldn’t stop from gushing over your dress, made from the most incredible fabrics from Alfheim and based on a design found in one of Inga’s old sketchbooks. It was a wonderfully simple design, really, but everything that you could ever have hoped for.

Your corset - which actually fitted and didn’t squeeze you so tightly that you needed a few ribs removed to properly breathe - was decorated with the finest lace in the kingdom. Up close, the design was so intricate that at first you’d thought it could only have been created using magic; the flowers and vines that wound around the boned structure detailed beyond belief. Paired with a straightforward white skirt, the soft fabric gathered and draped around your waist over the train, the dress made you almost indistinguishable from the goddesses of old.

Altheda expertly pinned your hair into place, fair white flowers picked from the gardens that morning tucked carefully into the spaces between your braids. She then rested a beautiful crown of silver on the top of your head, given to you by Frigga as a token of her welcoming you into her family (regardless of what her husband thought).

Taking a step back, Altheda actually had to wipe away a tear from her eyes. “You look so beautiful, dear.”

"Hard to remember that a year ago I was just a servant.“

"You were always so much more than ‘just a servant’, Y/N. You know that. Prince Loki truly is a lucky man. I have a gift for you, if I may.”

You nodded and from her bag she pulled a thin bracelet. It was made of dark green silk, woven tightly together with a strand of gold through the middle. Altheda slipped it on to your wrist and smiled at your well hidden confusion.

Patting the back of your hand, she said, “Your dress, my dear. On the night of the ball, it was sent to the cleaners after your little adventure and eventually found its way back to me. Clearly it was beyond repair so I contacted a wonderfully recommended seamstress from Aumrauth and commissioned her to create this bracelet.”

"Thank you,“ you whispered, running your fingers over the fabric. You could almost picture Inga sat in her home weaving the strands of fabric together and felt a warmth spreading through your chest. It was so easy to pretend that she was right there with you.

Guessing your thoughts, Altheda smiled and gently squeezed your hand. "She’s watching over you, my dear. They all are. Now, let’s wipe away those tears of yours. You’re about to marry a prince. Surely that’s something to smile about? Especially one as handsome as Loki.”

She was right. Loki truly was very handsome. As Altheda walked you down the aisle, a modest gathering of titled and untitled guests on either side, all you could focus on was Loki. The cheers and the music meant nothing to you. Not the over the top floral displays or the shining gold pillars of the grand hall.

Only Loki.

Loki in his amazingly well fitted armour, layers upon layers of leather and metal all designed to cling indecently to his person. Loki with his smile of pure adoration and love for you, all of his nerves vanishing the second he laid his eyes on you. Loki, the man, the prince, who had chosen you to be his forever more.

You barely noticed when Altheda left your side, standing off to the side with her hand in Sigrid’s as the ceremony began. You couldn’t take your gaze of Loki, lost in the deep green of his eyes and the way his lips twitched into a smirk. He was so totally aware of the way he affected you, the mischievous glint in his eye sparkling as he Thor handed him a golden band.

Leaning forward ever so slightly, Loki whispered, “This is where you’re supposed to say, 'I do’.”

"Oh! I do! I really, really do,“ you said, unable to stop the enormous grin on your face as Loki slipped the band on to your finger.

Loki repeated your sentiment, the depth of his feelings clear for all to see, and the moment you slipped the ring on to his finger he bent down and flung you over his shoulder - much to the amusement of everyone present. Sigrid laughed the hardest, running up to Loki’s leg and bashing him to put you down but it made little different. He carried you back to his chambers with remarkable ease, setting you down on the bed and laying beside you.

Finally alone, Loki kissed you passionately. "My beautiful wife.”

"That has a nice ring to it,“ you whispered, more than a little overwhelmed by the joy you were feeling. You brushed your lips over his once more, sighing contently as you snuggled into his arms. "My husband.”

"What’s wrong?“ he asked, tracing the line of your jaw lazily with his fingers. You leant into the soothing strokes, closing your eyes and focusing on the tiny sparks that danced over your skin everywhere he touched. "You can tell me, my love. You’re happy, aren’t you? You don’t regret this already, do you?”

You shook your head, sensing his worries. “No, Loki. I will never regret being with you. If you don’t know that then I’ve done something very wrong. You make me so happy. I’m just… We’ll be okay, won’t we? With the kids and everything…”

"My dearest Y/N, you have seen the worst that this world has to offer. It is no surprise that you would worry. However, so long as we are together, I am prepared for whatever the future may hold for us. For us all.“

***

It may not have been a life of luxury that you led with Loki and the children but it was a magnificent one. It was full of joy and laughter, life and love. There were days that were hard, as there always are, but they were made up for over and over by years of absolute wonder.

When Odin eventually passed and Thor became king, you and your growing family were welcomed back to Asgard but chose the peace of the countryside over the bustle of the palace. You had everything you needed; a roof overhead and the money to feed your children more than just mouldy bread rolls. You had each other and that was all that mattered.

Every night you told your children fantastical stories about princesses and dragons, pirates and zombies, all the incredible things that the universe had to offer, but there was one tale they never got tired of hearing. The story of a prince who fell for a serving girl. They had to fight for their love, fight for their kingdom. Like all stories, there was tragedy. There was sacrifice and terrible loss. But there was also kindness and courage and magic beyond belief. It truly was the perfect tale.

No matter how you tried to change it, to weave the tale together in another way, there was only ever one ending that the children would accept: They lived happily ever after. And never had truer words been spoken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone that kept with this story, I really appreciate all the kudos and feedback that I got on it! I know it's been a bit of a wild ride but hopefully you enjoyed it because I certainly had fun writing it. Please check out my other works too :D


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